


Clawing Your Way Out

by Lilili_cat



Series: JL [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Sibling Incest, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 49
Words: 41,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19287655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilili_cat/pseuds/Lilili_cat
Summary: In a world where Hashirama causes his brother's death and goes crazy, Madara, Mito and Izuna band together against the tyrannical Senju.  With the help of a Hashirama and Tobirama of a different (canon) world, they unite and try to bring down the tyrant.





	1. Familiar Faces

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering why my formatting and posting is weird...it's because I don't know how to correctly use the archive system at all. >.<
> 
> Also, this is the gen path. There will be a non-gen, incest and dub-con laden path (when I get to those parts that will necessitate the split).

**Familiar Faces**

 

Hashirama wakes up to bright lights and grim faces, those of his most precious people. Madara, the normally elegant lines of his face stony and cold; Mito, her serene countenance betrayed by the storm brewing in her green eyes, and--

Where is his little brother?

He must have said the question out loud because Izuna—Izuna! He can't believe he's alive and well!—answers him.

“The Hashirama of our world likely took him. He would likely be held in the new village that Hashirama has grown.”

The choice of words strike him immediately, he turns wide eyes on all the familiar faces gathered around him.

But they aren't so familiar, are they?

_Our world._

There's really only one thing that can mean.

“This is not my world,” he states, more than asks.

It is Mito who answers him next, her gaze serious and fixed on his face, as if searching for something. “No, it is not.”

Her cool, almost disinterested, tones does nothing to calm him as they usually would. The implications of what she's said is too large for that.

“Then why am I here?”

“We have need of someone who would be on even footing with the one who shares your name here.”

His brow wrinkles in confusion. “Even footing?”

Madara steps forward. “Our Hashirama has turned into a tyrant, and the mokuton proves to be too powerful for any of us.”

Hashirama frowns. That makes no sense, and he says as much. His kekkei genkai is powerful, but Madara was always his equal. Why would this world, so obviously patterned after his own, be any different?

Izuna and the people who share the faces of his precious people look to each other, as if debating something, and Hashirama feels his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What aren't you telling me?”

Mito (but no, it isn't really _his_ Mito, is it?) licks her lips, the first trace of hesitancy he's seen in her since he's woken up.

But it is Izuna who brushes the other two aside and stalks up to him, purposeful and determined.

“The Hashirama of this world went crazy after his brother died--”

“--after _you_ killed him, you mean,” Mito interjects.

“--after he _died_ \--and forcefully subjugated everyone into his twisted version of peace.”

What.

“The Tobirama of this world is—dead?” he croaks out.

The hard green chips of Mito's eyes soften as she looks at him, and she shakes her head as if in pity. “Hashirama saw something that convinced him that Tobirama would kill Izuna and cause Madara to go mad with vengeance. He asked him to hold back from lethal strikes, and Izuna killed Tobirama instead.”

Lethal strike. Tobirama. Izuna.

The pieces fall into place, and Hashirama feels his eyes widening in disbelief. The injury that his little brother had visited upon Izuna earlier in the day! The one he had been mad at Tobirama about.

His chest is suddenly tight as he remembers commanding his brother to leave his presence.

 _Just go_ , he had said back then.

He swallows. He knows he is not the best of brothers, he knows he could be a lot better but...

He hadn't even seen to his brother's injuries after that battle, leaving Tobirama to the clan medics. And now Tobirama was taken, by a Hashirama who went insane from the loss of his last little brother.

“Our Hashirama's powers multiplied from his insanity, because he is no longer bound by reasonable limits, and since you have the same powers—are in fact, the same person—we need your help.”

Izuna snarls, “I don't think we need you at all. But Aniki and Uzu--”

“We need you,” Madara cuts in. The man grabs the younger Uchiha and pushes him behind himself, as if to hide him from Hashirama's view.

Hashirama ignores the unsubtle attempt to keep the younger man from interfering and thinks to the situation, imagines what he would feel if he had lost Tobirama earlier, especially if he had lost Tobirama _because of his own orders_ and...

The pain is almost overwhelming.

Yes, he can see why they would need him.

And he's terrified, thinking of _his_ little brother in that maniac's grasp, of thinking of _his_ Tobirama under _their_ Hashirama's power.

This isn't his world. He's not beholden to them as he would be if they were _his_ Mito, _his_ Madara. All he wants is to...

“Get Tobirama back,” he demands harshly. “I will only help you if I can get my brother returned to me, healthy, whole and safe.”

He owes it to his Tobirama. And maybe he's lost sight of his little brother before, but that doesn't mean he can't be a better brother in the future.

Just give me back my brother, he silently begs the ancestral kami. Just give me another chance to be a good brother.


	2. An Unsettling Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobirama wakes up and is wary.

**An Unsettling Awakening**

 

Tobirama wakes to Hashirama staring at him wistfully, brown eyes large and almost limpid as they watch over him, his tan Senju haori rustling as he reaches out a hand to Tobirama.

“You were injured during the last battle, little brother. I have healed you, but you are still weak. You should--”

Tobirama looks away at the walls of the room he's in. It's his brother's, flowers blooming in every corner, a vine snaking along the west wall, and a trellis of new wisteria over the window.

He turns back to Hashirama. “I know you are not my brother,” he says simply. “I know we got dragged into another world by a seal—Mito's work, I assume—and that you are my brother's counterpart. Please do not insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise.”

His brother's counterpart hesitates, then nods, his hand dropping back down to absently smooth his white hakama. “I should have known that you would know immediately. My apologies.”

Despite his words, there's a small fond smile on his lips, tinged with a hint of—longing?—and Tobirama finds he must look away or else be shaken by its sincerity.

He's not used to it. Anija's smiles are boisterous and loud with the rest of the clan, pained and determined with Madara, and thoughtless with him. To have a man who looks so much like Anija smile at him like that...

This world must be very different from his own to produce a Hashirama that enjoys his scolding.

Tobirama gestures to the red spider lilies, primroses and white chrysanthemums in the corners.

“Who died?”

The familiar face contorts into a grimace and for a moment, a spark of something vicious, something dark and crushing crosses his eyes. His hands tighten on his knee, wrinkling the hakama he had just smoothed.

Tobirama feels something within him tremble at the sight. 

“It is of no matter,” Hashirama says absently. With a wave of his arm, he clears the lilies, primroses and chrysanthemums, replacing them with small delicate bluebells instead. “They are no longer necessary. These flowers suit the room much better.”

He leaps to his feet then, extending his hand to Tobirama.

“Come, you should eat and replenish your strength. I will make grilled saba and wakame salad.”

His favorites. This Hashirama is...attentive. Another difference from his Anija.

Tobirama looks at the outstretched hand, but does not take it. “Why did you attack Anija and I?”

The brown eyes blaze, and Hashirama snarls. “I attacked him to prevent him from making the biggest mistake of his life. He--he--”

His brother's counterpart visibly wrestles with his emotions, his face contorting with anger, before he swallows forcefully. “He would do something very stupid. Something that would endanger you. I wanted to protect you.”

Tobirama regards him for a moment, silent, before holding up his own ink-laden arm. “And these suppression seals,” he says evenly. “Are they for my protection too?”

He's satisfied to see Hashirama flinch at that. “I could not take the chance you would return to him. You would be in too much danger,” he admits.

Tobirama looks away, willing his own anger to stay down and swallowed within his body. This copy looks so much like his Anija, and to have him speak such words, to have him worry about _him_...

It is suspicious. His brother loves him, but he does not think of him, not like that.

He must be hiding something.

 _Do not be weak_ , he reminds himself. _Do not fall for a familiar face and words you have wanted to hear from Anija for years._

“Why were we brought here,” he asks, deciding to change tack.

The anger vanishes as it was never there, and Hashirama shrugs. “I established peace as I've always wanted—”

And yet, Tobirama had spied Uchiha Madara choking on the ground last he saw him.

“—but you were right. Madara and Izuna are traitors and cannot be trusted. They forced Mito from me and compelled her to summon the two of you—I assume so that they can gain control over the mokuton through another me and overwhelm me.”

Tobirama thinks on the explanation, and it is...plausible. While Mito is powerful, with the sharingan's abilities, against both Madara and Izuna...

But something strikes him as odd.

He's not sure what, but his instincts are rarely wrong.

Wait and see, he thinks. Play along and learn more.

Only then, can he return to Anija's side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Japanese flower symbolism:  
> Red spider lilies - death
> 
> Primroses - desperation
> 
> White chrysanthemums - grief (or truth)
> 
> Wisteria - devotion (also apparently love, sensuality and bliss)
> 
> Bluebells - gratitude


	3. The Seeds of Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sure I like this, but this week is also quite busy, so, here you go!

**The Seeds of Corruption**  
  
  
It's what he's dreamed of for months now. It's that impossible wish he made that night so long ago—the terrible night he took his little brother home for the last time.

_He had lovingly, gently cleaned the dirt from his hair, the scrapes from his body, the dried blood against his skin. He had taken the expensive soft hemp cloth, wet it in the warm water and ran it over cold skin skin and stiff joints, caressing the smooth forehead, the closed eyes, the high cheekbones, the soft lower lip, the long pale column of neck, the fine collarbone, the lean arm, the elegant long fingers._

_Bent over his brother's prone form, he hadn't even noticed the liquid drops falling on graying skin until his spare hand brushed against them. And then he had needed to wash the washcloth and begin again. He could not leave salt on Tobirama's skin—and his tears tasted of nothing but bitter salt and mournful regret._

_When he finished in his self-imposed task, he had crumpled in upon himself, shaking uncontrollably as he clutched his brother's cold, cold hand._

_“Tobira,” he had called mournfully. “Tobira, please...Anija is sorry. Anija is so sorry. Please Tobira...”_

_He had brought that lifeless hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly, sweetly, held it to his face. He had wished miserably, pitifully that if he could just turn back time, if he could just have his beloved little brother back..._

_He would give anything._

_But the kami do not listen to wretched blind fools, and a few days later, he watched with dry eyes as the priest spoke a small katon and lit the funeral pyre on fire. He watched as the flames licked and ate his brother's body, devouring him whole until there was naught left but ash, swept in a jar and kept on a little shrine next to his cleaned and polished happuri._

_That night, he had gone to his brother's room to close it off. He had gone to his brother's room and..._

_The lovingly-maintained swords on the wall, the futon neatly folded in the corner, his brother's treasured little compass-sundial necklace their mother had made for the son who most took after her, resting in its blue silk lined box, the carefully organized documents on the desk—and his eyes watered to see they were all for **his** benefit, all to help this stupid worthless elder brother._

_They reminded him so **strongly** of Tobira, of his little brother, of his serious, too loyal, too loving little brother and—_

_—red spider lilies had bloomed then, without thought, without control. Red spider lilies and white chrysanthemums and primroses sprouting around the swords, burying the paper, choking the necklace. Vines twisted around the swords until they couldn't be seen, swallowing the wall, swallowing _everything_ in a tangled, thorny mess._

_He choked and backed out, unable to close it off, unable to enter again._

_Red and white and yellow and green, overtaking everything and if they would just bring him back his brother, just bloom with the one thing he wants above all..._

And then, miraculously, they had. Red and white and yellow and green...the colors of the seal that the traitor Mito had woven. And they had brought his brother back.

And Hashirama had been content.

Until...until he isn't.

It's not enough. Tobira looks elsewhere, his eyes always turned away, searching for another pair of brown eyes, another Hashirama.

_A Hashirama who doesn't deserve him._

And when he does look upon him, there is nothing but cold suspicion in those beautiful red eyes. Suspicion and distrust and subtle attempts to unweave the seals Hashirama has painted upon his pale skin for his own protection.

His brother does not look upon him as the brother who left him did, and the knowledge is like a kunai to his throat, a blade stabbed deep into his heart. He wants those eyes to turn to him warmly, to seek his company, to stop trying to leave him.

What must he do to gain that regard back?

What must he do to have his little brother again?

What must he do to prevent him from seeking out that impostor?

What must he do to have him all to himself, safe and protected and his precious, his beloved otouto?


	4. Something's Not Quite Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now we have Tobirama's growing sense that he's missing something vital.

**Something's Not Quite Right**  
  
  
It is unnerving just how solicitous this stranger with the face of his brother is with him.

“Tobirama, would you like some oranges? They are fresh grown and very sweet!”

“Tobira, I brought you some books...I know you get bored with nothing to read.”

“Tobira-chan, are your injuries healing well enough? I've come by to check.”

And the thing is...if this were actually _his_ brother, _his_ Hashirama, Tobirama wouldn't mind. To have those familiar warm brown eyes regard him like that—him, Senju Tobirama, and not Uchiha Madara... To have his brother look at him and not immediately look away afterwards...

But always, always there's the knowledge in his mind that this is not his brother, that this is not his Hashirama. This is only a poor facsimile, a copy whose creator understood so little of his brother that they somehow switched his brother's love for him with his brother's all-consuming regard for Uchiha Madara.

It's a cruel jest that this universe plays on him, but he will not be fooled by it, no matter how much his heart twinges at the familiar use of nicknames his brother has not used with him for over 10 years.

And it has also not escaped his notice that, for all of this Hashirama's attentiveness, he has still not removed the seals preventing Tobirama from accessing his chakra or leaving this house.

“I would be able to advance my own healing if you remove some of these chakra blockers, Hashirama-san,” he points out. It pains him to ask, but he's already checked the seals many times over, and while he spotted at least five vulnerabilities in the first ten minutes of looking...there is no chakra ink for him to take advantage of it.

The man simply smiles. “Your skills are not in healing, Tobira-chan. Best let me take care of it.”

...Just as it has not escaped his notice that his counterpart is nowhere to be seen. 

He frowns. “Hashirama-san, may I at least speak to your brother? As you surmised, I am prone to fits of boredom without subjects to occupy my mind with, and if I am to stay here as your—” prisoner “—guest, then I would like to converse with him.”

The doppelganger with his brother's face smiles sadly at this. “I'm afraid he's been away on a mission for me and won't be back anytime soon. I do worry for him, since he is my dearest little brother, but his skills are crucial, and I could not spare him.” The man sighs sadly, his long dark hair veiling his face. “What a failed brother I am, to put the welfare of the village above the welfare of my own flesh and blood.”

“But,” he continues, his face suddenly grim and pained, “Tobirama has always been dutiful and loyal. _Too dutiful and loyal._ And he heeded my orders without complaint, as always.”

Tobirama nods as if in agreement, but his mind is whirling in confusion.

 _Too_ loyal? Anija certainly always complained that he followed the rules too well and too coldly, but he doesn't think he has ever been accused of being too loyal before.

And that tone. He's heard it before. Anija's used it before. But where?

It's recently, he knows, but the exact circumstance escapes his mind.

He has the right puzzle piece in this mystery. He knows it instinctively, just as he knows solving it will help in his escape. But he can't quite slot it in...it's not in the right configuration.

“Then...may I at least offer suggestions to alter these seals so that I can walk outside? I would like to see this village you created, Hashirama-san, if only so I can make suggestions to my own brother once you are sufficiently convinced that I am safe.”

The familiar face clouds at his request, and the man abruptly turns from him.

“It is too dangerous for you out there. I am sorry, but I cannot permit it. The rebels will be looking to attack any day now, and with Mito forced to their side and your brother fed whatever lies they come up with...I would not jeopardize your safety.”

In any other situation, Tobirama would scowl...but this is not any other situation, and so he swallows his first impulse and presents a placid, neutral face. “I am a seasoned and vetted shinobi no mono,” he gently reminds the man. I can take care of myself.”

Hashirama whirls around and grabs his shoulders. “You couldn't when I saved you from Madara and Izuna's plots against me. One strike of the wood dragon and—”

Tobirama sets his own hands over the ones on him and firmly removes them from person. “—I'll remind you that I had been dressed in only a simple hakama, a threadbare shirt and a thin haori, with neither weapons nor armor with me at that time...and I was certainly not expecting someone with the same skills as my own brother as my opponent.”

The stubborn man shakes his head. “Perhaps later, but not now. After the rebels are defeated and there is no more danger of them capturing you and taking you from me perhaps...but not now.”

Tobirama stills as a chill runs up his spine.

Taking you from me, his brother's doppelganger had said.

“...but I am not yours,” he whispers.

It is now Hashirama's turn to still.

“I am not your brother,” he repeats. “You have your own, and after you correct Madara and Izuna's lies...after my brother understands he has been tricked, _surely_ you will return me to his side?”

“Yes,” the man with his brother's face says woodenly. “Yes, of course I will. I meant they simply will not take you from me while I am in this critical and delicate political situation.”

The words are correct, but the sentiment...the sentiment is _false_.

Hashirama is _lying_.

The sense of wrongness is almost overwhelming and Tobirama...Tobirama needs to escape as soon as possible.


	5. A Frenzy of Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit slower-paced, but I had to plod the plot along a little.

**A Frenzy of Planning**  
  
  
Their plan is simple, and Mito is the one who comes up with it.

 _Step 1: utilize Madara's sensing skills to get them close to the village his counterpart built without detection._ It would have been impossible before, but his fiance's counterpart used those few days to test out seals to detect Hashirama's plants. She will paint those seals on Madara's counterpart to augment his sensing ability so that when he channels chakra, he will sense the sentinel vines and the lookout poppies as well as people and animals.

“It's ridiculous that he uses poppies as lookouts, of all things. Of all the flowers—poppies!” Madara grouses, as if he's almost insulted by the notion.

“The specific variety that I would have used has medicinal purposes,” Hashirama rebukes him. “It can alleviate pain when used in certain dosages and cause a person to forget their worries for a while.”

Madara blinks, astonished. “All that from a small colorful flower?”

“That red flower can drive men to desperation when they are deprived of its mind-numbing and pain-numbing properties, Madara,” Mito says wryly. “Don't look down on a flower just because it is small and beautiful.”

Despite himself, Hashirama smiles at her. She may not be his fiance, but he is very much reminded of her. Theirs is not a love-match, and they are both free to pursue other lovers once an heir is born and they are discreet about it, but he respects her greatly, as she does him.

 _Step 2: attack at dusk._ This will limit the additional energy the other Hashirama's plants get from the sun.

“Won't this also limit mine as well?” Hashirama asks.

Izuna snorts. “Yes, but you _should_ be able to counter at least some of what he pulls unless you're _completely_ incompetent. But it's still four against 1, even if he is on home turf, and _we_ won't be affected by the lack of sun.”

Charming as he has ever been these past few days.

Hashirama wills himself not to snipe back and to accept the insults with grace. Unlike Mito, who knew a kinder side to her once-fiance, and Madara, who once called the man his best friend and feels guilty for what he allowed to happen, this Izuna will likely always see an enemy's face every time he looks at him. Izuna owes him no courtesy, and while Hashirama owes him none in return, he does feel a sort of gratitude to him.

Every time he sees him, every backhanded begrudging compliment and every snide remark, he is pathetically grateful that this is not the Izuna from his own world, that it is _this_ Izuna who lives in the place of this world's Tobirama...rather than his Izuna who lives in the place of his own brother.

...He supposes he ought to feel some compassion for the Hashirama here who lost his last little brother—but he cannot. The man took Tobirama from him, holds him captive, and that is unforgivable. And, ultimately, he was the reason for his own little brother's death, and no one else. The differences between their worlds prove it.

_Step 3: rescue Tobirama._

Hashirama slams his palms on the table, absently cracking the wood in his shock. “You want WHO to do it?”

Mito merely takes a delicate sip of the tea she had managed to grab before leaving (“Of all things, she grabbed tea?!” “You don't understand, get between her and her gyokuro, and you're a smear on the ground”).

Madara seems to share his reservations. “Mito, are you sure?”

Mito calmly sets the wooden cup—one minute of concentration, then another minute to make it waterproof—down. “Both you and Hashirama will be needed to counter my ex-fiance. That leaves Izuna and I. I will be too busy handling the seals. Izuna is the only one who can do it.”

Hashirama grinds his teeth. “But will he do it? What if he harms my brother? With the history that he has with this world's Tobirama...and with the history that my otouto has with our Izuna...”

“It's that very same diverging history that makes him the best choice.”

“Izuna,” she turns to the scowling Uchiha. “Tells us what happened when you killed Tobirama here.”

The statement wipes the scowl right off of Izuna's face—and if some small petty part of Hashirama revels in it, no one has to know. “Hashirama went insane, and the world was plunged into chaos.”

“And remind me,” she turns to Hashirama now. “How did you treat your brother after he delivered what was probably a mortal strike against your Izuna? I remembered noticing when I summoned him that he had injuries that clearly had not been fortunate enough to receive your care. Is this normal, that you leave your brother to the hands of others?”

He knows a rebuke when he hears one, even one as subtle as Mito's.

Shamed, he looks down at the cracks he's made. “No, it is not,” he admits.

“Then I think, gentlemen, that we can surmise that both would be cautious about inflicting serious injury on the other, even if our Hashirama has managed to fill your brother's head with lies. He will be safest in Izuna's hands.”

_Step 4: be very lucky if at all possible._

“We're doomed, aren't we?” Madara mutters, his face in his hands.

“If you think that way, then there is no way to succeed. And I don't know about you, but I _am_ going to get my brother back.”

“We will succeed, gentlemen. As long as we all do our parts, even my ex-fiance, made more powerful in his grief and madness, cannot stand against us.”

“Then we leave tomorrow, Mito?”

“Yes, we leave tomorrow, Hashirama.”


	6. They Say Of Epirus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of perspectives. Lots.

**They Say Of Epirus**  
  
  
The rebels attack at dusk, and their force is overwhelming. His trees are uprooted—that traitorous Mito and her seals—his vines burnt—Madara's work, of course—and the barricades at the perimeter are toppled by his copy's Wood Dragon. Had any one of these attacked by themselves, he could have handled them, but together, they are truly formidable.

He briefly wonders where the younger Uchiha brother has disappeared to, but more immediate concerns overtake his concentration. He must secure the inner line, or this location will be lost.

A blue dragonfly darts past him to the inner wall, and a second later, he hears its Aburame calling. “The barricades are breached! Fall back! Fall back!”

A shame, but at least they have worn down the attackers, forcing them to use more energy and chakra that they must have liked, if Mito's grim expression from across the battlefield is any indication.

Hashirama steps over the corpses of the fallen Hatake, Inuzuka, and the Uchiha that had remained that he had ordered to the front as he retreats to the inner fortications, sparing a brief thought of pity for them. They were loyal. When he captures the rebels, he will raise a funeral monument worthy of them and raise their clans above the others for their loyalty and obedience.

He'll see to the inner defenses, make sure the ranged defenders are in place. They won't be able to take the rebels down, but they'll be costly for them nonetheless, and that's all he needs.

-~&~-

He senses the vines tunneling beneath him and whirls to face them just as they explode out of the ground, ready to spear him. A breathed katon, and he spins a stream of fire from his mouth to _roast_ the fuckers like the weeds they are.

When they are nothing but ash, he looks around and sees the fallen and dead bodies of former allies and enemies both everywhere. And even—he shuts his eyes in grief at this—even the clan members who had not left with he and Izuna. A truly sad sight—a _senseless_ sight. Throwing able shinobi no mono—throwing _people_ —who didn't stand a chance against them just to wear down their chakra...

His one-time friend has truly been consumed by his madness, to use such a tactic as this.

He spares a brief prayer for the fallen—but he has no time to truly pay respects. If this is to finish, if they are to succeed, if they don't want even _more_ death, then Hashirama must be stopped. And so he follows as their Hashirama chases _his_ Hashirama deeper into the nascent village.

-~&~-

A seal to allow the trees to be burnt, a seal to call forth a barrier against the vines, a seal to bring frost to the poppies and send them into permanent sleep.

The plan is working, is holding, for but how long? Their energies are depleting faster than she had anticipated; the shinobi no mono her once-fiance sacrificed had performed their task only too well. And even as they follow his retreat, they step further and further into _his_ territory...

And if, _if_ they succeed in pushing him back...he will become desperate...and no animal fights so fiercely as one that is cornered. 

Especially a dog with a bone to guard.

Mito scans for a head of silver-white hair, but sees nothing, and she worries.

-~&~-

He may be known for his grand fireball, but in truth, stealth is his finest point. The trick is to wait, to be patient and lie waiting for the correct time to sneak past.

And in a battle, the best time to sneak past is when everyone's attention is captured by a giant Wood Dragon trying to eat them all.

And so Izuna waits...waits to find the perfect time to slip in and get Senju Tobirama out...

He doesn't see him yet, hasn't quite figured out exactly where he's being kept, and even Madara and that Uzumaki (though he supposes he's not half bad, really) couldn't sense him, but...

He's seen what happened when Hashirama loses his brother. And he certainly doesn't want _two_ crazy Hashiramas to deal with.

-~&~-

He's pacing. He's pacing back and forth, searching for any way out of this house, out of his prison where he's trapped. He can hear the roar of katons, the groans of creaking wood and the screams of the dying, but he can't find an opening, yet.

The door is reinforced and his body too weak to break it open without chakra. The windows seem resistant to anything he's managed to throw at them (not that he's found anything he could use as a weapon).

No! There must be a way. He refuses to give up.

If only he had something...

A glint of metal catches his eye, and he stills, eyeing the wall of flowers and tangled vines.

That is where he would have kept his old swords, and if this world's Tobirama is anything like him, and he _must_ be, then...

He tears through the vines and flowers with his bare hands, unheeding of the thorns that stab through his skin, until...yes! It _is_ one of his swords.

But...

It's the sword he currently uses. And it's completely undamaged, in prime condition.

If this world's version of him is on a mission...why would this be left behind when it would be better served by the man's side?

A soft footstep, inaudible to anyone else (but he has worked hard to train his hearing to catch these things) falls softly behind him—not this world's Hashirama, not anyone he can think of, but still strangely familiar—and he tenses, waiting, waiting...

Another footstep—closer—and he whirls around, lunging with his sword, aiming unerringly for the man's heart despite his sealed chakra when a familiar ninjato parries his blade.

“Senju!” the man growls, and Tobirama recognizes him immediately.

“Izuna,” he says grimly.


	7. A Rival's Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit drunk so...this is shorter than probably more error-prone than normal.

**A Rival's Respect**  
  
  
There are few things that Izuna is truly careful of, and Senju Tobirama is one of them. The man's mind is like a steel trap, snapping on whatever unwary pitiful prey is stupid enough to wander in. If they're lucky, he leaves them severely maimed. If they're not...

Back when the Uchiha and the Senju were still at war, and Izuna saw the albino on the battlefield, his sword drawn and ready in his head, he was reminded of nothing more than a pit viper, coiled and ready to strike. And when his ninjato would inevitably bite into whoever was unfortunate enough to get between Izuna and Tobirama...

Izuna will give his rival this. At least he kills quickly and has never deliberately drawn it out unlike some of Izuna's opponents. He is merciful.

Or was.

When he allows himself to think on it, it still astounds him that his rival is dead, that he managed to kill him in that unexpected last strike. Senju Tobirama was as inexorable as the waves of the sea. And yet he is dead (and the _why_ of it all still makes no sense).

He's put the man from his mind when the man's brother had gone insane, too busy worrying about his family and clan and rebelling against Hashirama to spend more than a few minutes thinking about the man's younger brother. As much as he respected the Senju's abilities—the cautious respect of a well-loved enemy—the living come first, and his brother comes before all the rest.

But now, he stands across the man, a blade in between them as before, and he finds he cannot put the man from his mind anymore.

“Senju,” he growls, eyes on the sharp sword in his hands, his own ninjato gripped tightly in his fist.

“Izuna,” the Senju responds. “Have you come to kill me?”

“No!” He cries. “Not for all the jutsu in the world! To have two insane Hashiramas...”

Those unsettling eyes—a red more like blood than the comforting red of the sharingan—stare pointedly at Izuna's ninjato. “Is that why you raise your weapon to me and attempt to sneak up on me like a thief? You want to—what—rescue me perhaps?”

The words were said in mocking jest, but Izuna seizes upon them. “Yes! Exactly! Look, Senju, that man, that Hashirama who took you? He's not sane. He'll rend this world to bits—”

“And since when did you care for the world?”

Izuna growls again. “I don't. You know me—or the other me—too well for that. But I care for my brother, and my clan. And even that Uzumaki woman now, for all that she is insufferably smug. And to survive, we need your brother's help. Yours as well, probably. And your brother promised his aid only on the condition of your safe return.”

Those red eyes widen, all of a sudden large and glassy and vulnerable and...

“My brother...asked for me?” his rival gasps.

...and Izuna has to look away, suddenly ashamed of himself for having witnessed it.

For a man as renowned for his privacy as Senju Tobirama...to show such emotion...

He's killed the man's counterpart in this world, wounded him mortally when his ninjato sank deep into his chest—

(he hadn't expected the man to hold back, but he knew it in his bones that the man had and when Uzumaki Mito had told her story of Senju Hashirama's request of his brother...something vicious in Izuna had throbbed, howled in loss, at having been _cheated_ )

—and it didn't feel as personal as this. As wrong.

Senju Tobirama shouldn't be vulnerable. He shouldn't be.

“He did,” Izuna says gruffly. “He wants you back. That was a condition of his aid.”

The man is silent for a moment, then, “I don't believe you. You still have your weapon trained on me, you tried to sneak up on me. This could just be a story you're using to get me to lower my guard, so that you can kill me.”

Those red eyes bore into his own.

“After all...you killed the version of me that lived in this world, didn't you?”


	8. Understanding Rivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I am drunk. Hopefully I'll be in better shape for tomorrow's. Now pardon me while I snooze off the wine.

**Understanding Rivals**  
  
  
Tobirama stares at his rival's quickly paling face, and he knows his guess is correct.

Though, really, what else could it be? The Hashirama of this world had clearly mourned someone's death, his solicitous behavior pointed to some momentous event changing their old brotherly dynamic, the other Tobirama left his most used blade behind on a supposed mission, and now Uchiha Izuna stood in front of him, when Tobirama knows that, if events followed his own back home, then his rival would either be recovering in a bed or dead.

It all pointed to one likely outcome: that, in this strange world, it had been his Uchiha rival who was victorious in their last fight.

(But it is troubling that his counterpart died here. Does that mean the Izuna of his world will also die? His Anija will not be happy with that. His coveted peace will be all but impossible. Unless he were to change circumstances in his own world just enough so that the strike he landed on Izuna is not a lethal one...)

“I'm not here to kill you,” the rival of his counterpart insists, his feet shifting—don't look into an Uchiha's eyes, never look into an Uchiha's eyes—as they always do when the man's nervous.

“You keep saying that, and yet I remain unconvinced. You say you're here to rescue me...but I think it's more likely you believe I will join my brother's counterpart against your forces and have come to eliminate me. Isn't that right?”

Because why else would anyone send _Izuna_ , his rival, skilled in trying to kill (and apparently having succeeded) him? Even if his own brother is busy trying to save this world, surely _Mito_ would have made a far likelier choice?

Izuna growls. “What can I do to convince you then? I really do not mean you harm. And it needs to be quick. I don't want to be discovered.”

Tobirama considers it.

What would be enough? What would force Izuna to show a vulnerability that he never would as Tobirama's enemy?

“Give me your sword.”

The man hisses. “Are you out of your mind? You have your sword pointed right at me!”

Tobirama smiles grimly. “It is the only thing that will convince me. Anything else, and it might just be a trick to help you kill me. But this...”

He smiles again, showing teeth. “This shows your belly to me.”

Izuna growls again, his hands clenching where they are on his ninjato. His feet shifts ever so slightly, and Tobirama subtly moves his weight onto his back leg, tightening his own grip on his sword.

If his rival is planning on striking, if he's planning on leaping at Tobirama and cutting him down...then Tobirama will be ready.

Izuna's hands tighten again, even more, the whites of his knuckles showing clearly, and then...

...he bends down, sets his sword on the ground and pushes it to Tobirama's feet.

Tobirama blinks.

“What are you doing?” he asks numbly, disbelieving his own eyes.

Izuna snorts. “What you asked, of course. Showing my sincerity by giving away my best weapon like a complete idiot.”

Yes, Tobirama can see that. But...

But _why_?

“Then...my brother truly requested my return?” he asks. “He has forgiven me then?”

He wants to believe, but...

Tobirama has no illusions. It hurts to know that nothing is more important to his brother than his dreams of peace with Madara, but he is practical and blunt and has known that for as many years as he's faced Izuna on the battlefield. And he's made his peace with it, truly he has.

It's why he went directly to the clan healers after their last battle instead of Hashirama.

(Best to give Hashirama some time alone to grieve his lost friendship. Best not to bother his Anija with small injuries when he was the one to cause the biggest injury of all.)

Izuna shrugs. “I don't know about that. But he most definitely wants you back, and it was the condition he had before he would agree to help us.”

“And you? Why send you then? Why not someone more...suitable?”

“There, you and I agree. But it was Mito's plan, and she was needed to help with the seal-work.”

Izuna half-turns. “Senju, your counterpart's death was the catalyst for a lot of the shit that this world saw recently. And I have no desire to add to it. We don't have a lot of time. Just come with me, and I will get you back to your brother. I swear on my own brother.”

“If I'm to kill you,” the Uchiha adds, “I want it to be a fair fight, as my equal. I don't want you to throw the fight to me, and I don't want any unfair advantage like those seals painted all across your body. You're my rival, and both you and I deserve better than that.”

Tobirama hesitates—but only for a moment. Izuna is right, and they are running out of time.

And if a small part of him is in utmost agreement with the Uchiha...well, Izuna is Tobirama's rival for a _reason_. For all that he is Uchiha, the man is sensible. A mirror to Tobirama in every way. They would have gotten along, Tobirama muses, had they not been Senju and Uchiha and, for the first time, he regrets that.

He bends down to pick up the ninjato, holding it up by the grip before reversing it and handing it back to Izuna, hilt first.

“Take me to my brother,” he requests.


	9. Into the Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the split should come in around 4-5 chapters. Maybe.

**Into the Pit**  
  
  
Senju would have made an excellent spy, Izuna muses. He's only ever really known the man's counterpart when he faced him on the field, all heavy water jutsu and lethal sharp blades. He might be efficient—not like that brother of his, loud and almost wasteful in his use of chakra—but he was ultimately just as unsubtle. Powerful, strong, deadly, but all too _noticeable_.

Now, however, with his chakra sealed—neither of them had the ink to alter the seals, and so they must bear it until they have the time to devote to undoing them—but still keeping pace with Izuna, silent and quick and competent, more feline grace than Izuna would have thought him capable of, Izuna feels grudging respect rise in him. He is truly Izuna's equal, his rival.

And running beside him, slipping through the cracks of the house, in between the seals and through the tangled mess of back-alley ways, avoiding the paths laden with spying flowers and gripping vines, for once extending a helping hand and using his intelligence _on_ Izuna's side rather than against him...

Well...it gives a man ideas.

If only...

He allows himself the luxury of a small thought of the future, a what-if he briefly indulges in. A vision of locking blades with Senju Tobirama, of trading blows and hurling jutsu at each other...only to bow in respect and disengage at the end. If they live...he would like to spar with the man. He would like to go all out against his rival and trust that he will live, that they will both live, to tell the tale.

“Once I return to my brother, I will join him in helping you put an end to this entire affair, and we can return to our own world.”

Izuna nearly trips on his own feet.

Oh.

Yes.

He forgot.

...The Senju isn't Izuna's rival. He's only the counterpart of his rival. And he won't be around after they take care of the menace that is this world's insane Hashirama.

Izuna doesn't have a rival anymore.

-~&~-

Izuna is competent in how he executes this escape, and Tobirama is not surprised to see it. The Uchiha has always been Tobirama's equal, and while the battlefield was more of a display for heavy jutsu and flashy techniques, he's always noted the other man's capacity for subtlety and sneakiness. To see it on open display now only confirms the previous idea he had of him.

Uchiha Izuna was Tobirama's equal in every way, and he has always acknowledged it.

And that he apparently killed his counterpart justifies Tobirama's caution in dealing with the man. Clearly, their last battle was a kill or be killed situation. His world happened to land on the 'kill' outcome while this world happened to land on the 'be killed' outcome.

...It's truly a shame that those two outcomes were the only ones on offer. The more he sees of his rival in a non-adversarial role, the man lending him a helping hand when he's unable to bridge the gap left by the seals inhibiting him, the man seamlessly molding his movements to perfectly complement Tobirama's, the more he wants to see what it's truly like to work beside him.

Izuna is refreshingly efficient in the use of his chakra, dangerously competent in avoiding this Hashirama's spy plants and insightful enough to know when Tobirama would welcome his help and when he would not.

...if he didn't need to return home, he would have liked to spar with the Uchiha.

But they are of different worlds, and Tobirama must return to his own.

It is best not to form any attachments.

Well, he considers, at least his counterpart was killed by _this_ man rather than someone much lesser. If he should die to an enemy, it is best that that enemy be Uchiha Izuna and not someone else.

-~&~-

Hashirama returns to an empty house, the seals still secure, but its most precious occupant gone.

Everything is in its place, except one blade—his otouto's favorite—and at the sight of its disappearance and the trampled flowers that had hidden it, he feels his panic ease a little.

Tobirama can't have been slain then. Why would both he and his blade (that Hashirama had buried in vines and flowers) both be missing if that were the case? He had to have left willingly.

A sick feeling claws through Hashirama's belly at the thought even as he stoops down to collect the fallen primroses. If his brother left willingly, then he's an enemy now. It means he's lost him again.

(He's only just gotten his brother back. He's only just had him for a few days. Why must he lose him so soon? Why must he be betrayed like this?)

Hashirama crushes the purple petals in his hand. 

No. He can't bear it. He _won't_ bear it. He'll take his brother back and set him to rights, protect him from his enemies as he always _should_ have.

The sounds of battle outside increases, but Hashirama ignores it. The clans that are loyal to him can deal with it for now. His first priority is to get his brother back.


	10. Master of Plants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, they did give it the old college try.

**Master of Plants**  
  
  
Neither his flowers nor his vines are of any help. Despite having seeded them all throughout his village, they haven't sensed his brother anywhere.

...which means that he should focus on the locations he hasn't been as careful. The inconvenient locations, where he's put down concrete and metal for the clans that are more used to such. The locations difficult to grow vegetation and so he hasn't bothered before now.

Well, he'll fix that.

A brief moment of concentration and a heady infusion of certain types of chakra course through his body, reaching from his heart and traveling down the nerves until it jumps from the soles of his feet into the soil. A muttered word and new green growth shoots up out of the ground, gently pushing past the hardened dirt. Up, he wills. Come up and out, say hello to the moon and burst out like the point of a blade piercing through skin.

The concrete poses some difficulty, but more will, more chakra, more reinforcement to the tender shoots, and he wields their tips like bow drills, spinning and twirling until they bore through. The steel is harder still, but he adds flexibility to their walls, softening the fibers, willing them to bend and curve around the steel, seeking the small seams where the plates don't quite connect, small holes for nails and rusty edges.

In the light of the full moon, he coaxes new sprouts to shoot up, radiating from him in a spiral, searching, sensing...and sapping.

And subtle.

Be subtle, he commands. Subtle and unobtrusive and, most importantly, _hidden_.

Just the barest hint of green peeking out from the soil, a pinprick of color in concrete, a small green shoot nestled within nail holes and along the edges of jagged metal. All but invisible at this time of night.

Find him, he prays, sending his prayer into the roots, writing the instructions into each tiny block that forms the very fabric of life itself, weaving it into root and stem and seed alike. Sample all the chakra around, soak it in and find him. Bring me to him. Bring me to my brother so that I may keep him safe, so that I may keep him from leaving me again.

More and more green shoot up, small, hidden, unnoticeable, but slowly filling in the gaps that he had not properly tracked before, lighting up those areas that had once been dark to him.

Their small leaves rustle, rubbing against each other, releasing just that barest hint of odor, of raiton, of _something_ that whisper to the next plant in line, traveling down the spiral in a wave. Each sprout receives the signal, interprets the raiton and curls back from the faint odor...and then sends its own raiton, its own odors. Again and again, the signals are sent, received and then resent, over and over, spreading out among all the plants until the whispers finally reach the man at the center of it all.

And Hashirama listens. He infuses his chakra and listens as only he can, the raiton forming images in his brain, the odors lighting up his thoughts. Each tiny raiton reaches him and paints a small part of a picture. Each odor pings parts of his brain, complementing the raiton, drawing a map of which plants sensed what.

And as he listens to the small building picture, as he tastes the odors he soaks up and sees the rustling all around him, the picture is built.

Two chakras, one achingly familiar and the other infuriatingly so.

He listens and he tastes and he sees...and he fumes.

-~&~-

They are close to the edge of the village. Just a little further, and they will be out. And then they can dispense with all the circuitous routes meant to keep them hidden from Hashirama's spying plants and head straight to the planned meeting place.

Just a little further. Just that one last hurdle—the tall wall.

Izuna turns to his rival. “This is it. Give me your hand, and I'll pull you up.”

He's gratified to see Tobirama take his hand without hesitation.

“Anija is close by?” the man asks even as Izuna uses his chakra and hefts him slowly up.

“Your brother will be waiting once the battle is complete. We'll head to the meeting place, where you can teach me how to unweave those seals on you and—”

“—and take my otouto from me again, _Uchiha Izuna_? I should have killed you the first time.”

Vines, suddenly sprouting all around him, twining about his arms and legs and binding him to the wall even as he hears a cry—his own and his rival's as well—and Tobirama's hand is ripped away from him.

“It is past time that I correct that oversight.”


	11. Familiar and Alien

**Familiar and Alien**  
  
  
Hashirama had thought he had known fury when his beloved brother was hurt. He had thought he knew betrayal when Madara and Mito betrayed him (Izuna's was not a betrayal...he never expected loyalty from that snake anyways).

But those sentiments are nothing compared to what he feels now, watching as that blasted snake pulls Tobirama, pulls _his_ brother, up the wall in an attempt to _steal_ him.

No.

No, he won't allow it. Tobirama is _his_. His brother. His to protect. His to keep by his side.

Once again, Uchiha Izuna is _taking his brother from him_ , and Tobirama is _letting_ him.

(It's not fair. He's only just gotten Tobirama back, and he's leaving again, leaving him to face the world without him, without his quiet support and his adoring eyes and the soothing balm of his presence by his side. He's leaving him with nothing to take his place but red spider lilies and the bitter, bitter taste of guilt on his tongue and nights spent in nightmares and...)

He reigns in his temper.

It's not Tobirama's fault. His brother is simply confused and misled...confused by the man who looks just like Hashirama, misled by Izuna and his snakelike deceiving tongue, dripping with poisoned, honeyed words.

He mustn't blame Tobirama.

He mustn't hurt Tobirama.

Izuna. This is all his fault. Izuna and that blasted doppelganger who has the _audacity_ to take his brother from him. Izuna, that lying, deceiving snake who hurt his brother the first time and is now trying to poison Tobirama against him.

He can't allow Izuna to live. He should have killed Izuna when he first struck Tobirama down all those months ago.

“It is past time that I correct that oversight.”

-~&~-

There are only a few things in life that Tobirama has ever feared: failing his clan, letting down his Anija, Uchiha Madara's glare of loathing when he struck that blow on Izuna during their last battle. Never would he have thought he would fear _for_ Izuna.

But...

This man with Anija's face is looking at his rival's counterpart as if he were nothing—no, _less_ than nothing—and it's all Tobirama can to do prevent himself from flinching back from that alien expression on such a familiar and beloved face.

His Anija never looked at anyone like that. His Anija never treated anyone like that.

And for him to look at his best friend's little brother that way...

It's wrong.

It doesn't belong there.

It belongs there even less than the too-familiar way he treats Tobirama.

The Hashirama of this world strides forward, pushing him behind his back, and Tobirama hurriedly shakes off his thoughts, forces himself to focus.

If he doesn't _do_ something, Izuna will die here and now, and after the risk Izuna took to get him out, to try to reunite him with Anija...

(He's not doing this for Izuna. He's doing it so that he has a chance to see his Anija again. Because he won't get that chance without Izuna's help.)

“Wait,” he calls out his Anija's counterpart. “Don't kill him.”

Izuna stares at him, his eyes wide—really, does he have to look _so_ surprised? They are not enemies right now...

“And, my dear brother, why should I?”

 _I'm not your brother_ , Tobirama wants to say, but he swallows the words bitterly. If he's to prevent Izuna from being turned into fertilizer, he shall have to be careful not to antagonize the man.

“What does killing him give you?” he says instead.

Hashirama half-turns to regard him. “Peace of mind that you will be safe.”

“I don't mean _him_ any harm,” Izuna protests, and Hashirama's attention snaps back onto him even as Tobirama curses him for a fool.

_Doesn't Izuna know better than to attract the attention of powerful predators?!_

Hashirama moves forward again, blade in hand, and Tobirama sees Izuna shrink back, scrambling for his weapon. Hashirama simply makes a motion and knocks the blade out of his hand before he can even wield it, more vines entangling his hands and feet even through Izuna's struggling, two vines binding Izuna's eyes to prevent him from using the sharingan and—Izuna is no match for Hashirama. Just as Tobirama is no match for Hashirama, even unsealed. And this Hashirama is so much more _dangerous_ than his Anija ever was.

So he does the only thing he can think of. “Anija!” he calls out, even though the word tastes like ashes and betrayal in his mouth.

(Only Anija should ever be called that. Not this poor imitation.)

It works, and Hashirama halts his steps towards Izuna. “Yes, Otouto?”

He turns those too-bright, too-adoring eyes on him, and Tobirama wants to shrink away, but if he does...

(He can't allow Izuna to die. He wants to see his Anija again, to be by his side.)

“If you kill him, Madara will never forgive you.”

Hashirama grimaces at that, but then shrugs. “He's my enemy now. He made his choice.”

And that, out of everything, shocks Tobirama into stillness. Because if there's one thing he knows, it's that his brother would _never_ give up on Madara. And for his counterpart in this world to have done so...

It is truly a frightening thing.

“The rebels will fight to the death if he dies! Don't you want peace...Anija?”

The man doesn't even hesitate.

“I can have peace when the rebels are all dead.”

-~&~-

Ah, his little brother is so confused, to have taken up the cause of keeping Uchiha Izuna from his much deserved death.

It enrages Hashirama even more.

For them to have muddled his poor brother so... _I will free you from this sorcery_ , he vows. _I will free you from them, and you will be as you once were_.

But he must be patient. Tobirama is clearly getting more and more distressed at the thought of Izuna's demise, and as much as it pains Hashirama, he must be understanding here. Whatever damage the Uchiha have wrought on his beloved little brother will take time to fix.

(Potentially sharingan.)

In the meantime, he must not further excite him.

“I will spare him this time,” he begins, and feels bile rise in his throat at the _hope_ that shines in his brother's red eyes, “if you agree to stay with me willingly and promise to make no more escape attempts.”

If he can earn his brother's regard and trust again, if he can wipe away the confusion from his brother's eyes and have him look at him as he once did...that is more than worth Izuna's continued survival.

And...he can use Izuna. Madara will be loathe to press his attack now that his little brother is his captive.


	12. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having Madara and Hashirama there and trying to speak for them is like herding cats. ...except far less pleasant.

**Negotiations**  
  
  
It had been going so well...

Her ex-fiance had gone on the retreat, and they had been successfully pushing forward, with fewer losses on their side. Her seals had kept the worst of the damage at bay, while Hashirama's counterpart whipped their enemies with his vines and wood dragon. And Madara had proven very useful now that he could fully sense the unnatural plants and burn them out before they can do damage.

It had been going well...until her former fiance reappears, a bound and gagged (and furious) Izuna in his clutches.

Mito can feel Madara stiffen in outrage next to her, and even the Hashirama from the other world stops his attacks in slack-jawed shock.

The only sign she shows of her anger is a slight narrowing of her eyes.

Their enemy gives an ultimatum then. “Surrender, and I will let him live. Struggle on, and I will kill him.”

She sees Madara's eyes flare in alarm, and she hurries before he can say (or do) anything rash. “And what guarantee do we have that you won't kill him anyway? What guarantee that you won't just kill us all?”

 _Be sensible_ , she wills Madara silently. _If we surrender now, then Izuna will most assuredly die. He will not need to keep him alive at all if we surrender._

“My word is enough,” is Hashirama's response, and she fights the sneer that struggles to make its way onto her face. As if his word means much when he promised he would respect her people's sovereignty...and then trampled all over it.

“I need more than that,” Madara growls from next to her.

Those troubling brown eyes regard Madara thoughtfully, and then looks back to her, dismissing his once best friend. “You may not trust my word that I won't harm him, but believe you me...I most certainly _will_ kill him if you do not. Would you take that chance?”

She automatically grabs Madara's arm as he looks to stalk forward. “Let me handle this,” she whispers to him. “I will not betray you in this. I swear it on my people.”

-~&~-

On her people, eh? Even a few months ago, Madara would have ignored her. This fiance of his once best-friend...the to be wife turned traitor. But that was before they'd plotted together, before he came to her aid with his fire and she with her seals.

Before she brought another Hashirama to this world and gave them all a fighting _chance_.

Now...now as Izuna's life hangs in the balance, he doesn't know what to do. Panic is racing through his body, adrenaline flashing hot and heavy, but with nowhere to go, no outlet to let it out. He wants to kill Hashirama, wants to rip his little brother from his grasp but...

But that would guarantee his brother's death.

He wants to do as Hashirama commands and yield. He's terrified that he'll follow through on his threat and kill Izuna, but...Mito's right. What reason would he have to not kill Izuna once they surrendered? Wouldn't surrendering be _guaranteeing_ Izuna's death? Especially since Hashirama has no reason to love Izuna. (Izuna was the one to kill Tobirama and despite all of Hashirama's assurances, Madara doesn't doubt for a moment that Hashirama loathes his brother for it.)

Madara doesn't know what to do...but it seems Mito does.

He's not sure he trusts her just quite yet, but...there's no other choice. She's led them farther than they could have come alone.

 _Please_ , he begs her. _Don't get Izuna killed. I'll tear down this world if Izuna is killed._

-~&~-

If Mito feels any surprise at Madara nodding to her, she certainly doesn't show it.

(But then again, his ex-fiance was always the type to take control, through both outright and subtle means.)

“Let's negotiate, my once to be husband. We cannot surrender, and you know that. That guarantees all our deaths, and I am in no hurry to doom every single person who has helped me so far.”

Hashirama concedes her point. It was a long shot anyways.

“However, I will point out that we were winning until you took Izuna. So we'll agree to this: release Izuna and Tobirama to us, and we will retreat and allow you to live for another day.”

Hashirama nearly smirks. Mito always did open aggressively. In politics, in warfare, in handling his enemies in the past. Pity she chose the wrong side.

“And if I give them up, there is no guarantee that you won't simply kill me as well. As you just said...you were winning. I, too, have no desire to doom every single person who has helped me so far...nor give up _my_ Tobirama.”

His copy starts at that, fury on his face. “ _Your_?! He's _my_ Otouto!”

“Not anymore.”


	13. A Bloodless Engagement

**A Bloodless Engagement**  
  
  
Of all the hare-brained...

She had expected Madara to be unreasonable when faced with his brother's capture. He is notorious for overreaching to any threat against Izuna...and it isn't just hearsay. She has seen it with her own eyes more than once. She had even been ready to spring forth several arguments...all of which were unneeded. He had clearly decided in her favor and left the negotiation to her, despite his obvious fear for his brother.

(She can appreciate that. She can appreciate his steadfastness and ability to force back down the irrational love that springs to the fore so easily in him. A man of passion who knows when to back down. A man who knows when he is outclassed and is unafraid to let her take the lead.)

She had prepared for Madara. She should have prepared for her ex-fiance's counterpart instead.

Foolish, foolish, foolish.

“ _Your_?! He's _my_ Otouto!”

If only she can seal his tongue and bind his hands. Alas, they need him far too much.

She has no illusions. Without him, they would not have been winning in their fight so far.

“Not anymore,” her ex-fiance smirks, and it's with a sinking heart that she sees his counterpart take a step forward, pricked into action by their enemy's insinuations.

Immediately, she grabs hold of his sleeve, ready to haul him back physically if need be. She doesn't _like_ having to reveal herself so much, but, if left with no other choice...

“Do not be pricked into action, Hashirama-san,” she whispers frantically. “He's trying to goad you into action, cause you to be careless and _force_ our defeat that way, since he knows very well that we won't surrender willingly. If you give in to his taunts—”

“O-ho, my former fiance. Have you moved on to a man who could be my twin already? Were you always so wanton in your affections?”

She turns steely eyes upon him, unimpressed. Does he think she is as easily manipulated as he? He insults her with that thought.

“You're one to talk,” she retorts. If he means to trick them into carelessness, then it would be wise for her to turn the strategem upon him in turn.

“Keeping another man's brother in an attempt to pretend your own hasn't died? I simply replaced a buffoon, my dear former fiance,” she smiles serenely. “You replaced a loyal brother who sacrificed his life for you...pity he didn't know you were so eager to replace him _before_ he allowed himself to be struck down. I think he may have changed his mind had he known how perfidious you truly are.”

Madara half turns to stare at her with wide eyes, but she focuses all her attention on her ex-fiance. 

He turns white in rage, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he were imagining her throat in them. His muscles contract as if he's about to leap at her and, for a moment, for a brief moment, she thinks she's won.

_Attack me carelessly. Forget about Izuna behind you and let Madara rescue him. Direct your anger toward me and let Hashirama-san and I take you down..._

But it is not to be. Something clouds over his eyes, and he suddenly relaxes.

He gives a mocking bow instead. “Well played my former fiance. But you shall not catch me that easily. I have other considerations to think of and cannot afford to be taken by you.”

“Then give my brother back,” Hashirama-san speaks up again, “and give us Izuna and we'll consider letting you go.”

Hashirama ignores him entirely and focuses on Mito. “We are at an impasse, my dear. You cannot attack me for I have Izuna as my prisoner and you cannot surrender to me because you do not trust my word.”

She inclines her head. “And you cannot attack us because you know you are weaker. Nor can you surrender to us because you do not trust _our_ words...nor are we inclined to give it,” she admits.

“Then, what is to be done?”

She hesitates then, her eyes flicking to Madara, but...she sees no other option. It's the best way to keep Izuna alive _and_ allow them a possibility of rescuing him and Tobirama in the future.

(She only hopes he can forgive her, that Hashirama-san can forgive her, for what she is about to suggest.)

“We will retreat and you will not hinder us. We will allow you to keep Izuna-san for now—” Madara starts at this, but she quells him with a glance, “—but you must send us weekly communication as proof of his wellbeing. If you do not, we will attack and tear you down...and you know now that we are stronger than you. We will each of us regroup. Consider this a ceasefire...for now.”

(It's irritating, to come so far and to be stymied at the very last moment, but it can't be helped. And at least they decimated his support. It is something, even if it isn't what she hoped for.)

Both Madara and Hashirama are glaring at her darkly, but she holds firm. There is no other choice for now.

“I accept.”

She bows as is custom and then drags Madara and Hashirama off to explain.

She will need to win over her allies as well as her enemy to make this work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Mito is most definitely planning on giving Izuna instructions through the "weekly communications." And alt!Hashirama is most definitely going to be reading those and scanning for secret messages.


	14. Recalcitrance

**Recalcitrance**  
  
  
A week after the near-disaster, and Izuna is still hissing every time he comes to deliver his food to him in his carefully guarded and sealed cell.

“You rotten, two-faced, brother-fucking—”

Now really, why had he never noticed before how _childish_ the man was? To think that he nearly lost his brother forever for _him_...

“The agreement just says I need to keep you alive and well and allow weekly letters to prove it. It doesn't say anything about keeping you ungagged.”

“Hah! Like a mere gag would stop me. Let me go, you traitorous Senju! Let me go or so help me I'll...!”

How tiresome. With a thought, a wave of his hand and the release of his chakra, he grows a flower to seal Izuna's lips. “I'll release you to feed you, but you can stay like that for the rest of the time,” he says before spinning on his heel, ignoring the muffled infuriated shouts behind him.

He has little precious free time to himself, being too busy rebuilding the village and helping his allies and loyal followers bury and honor their dead. It _rankles_ that he must spend part of it making sure that weasel still lives, that he's satisfying the terms of the ceasefire instead of spending all of it with his beloved brother.

His feet take him directly to the chamber he's designated for his most precious person, and he swiftly moves to slide the door open after swiftly disengaging and re-engaging the seals that prevent entrance and exit.

“Tobira-chan...”

The inhabitant stares at the window, the beautiful red eyes steely as they refuse to regard him.

“Tobira-chan,” he says reproachfully. “You made me a promise. In return for my not killing Izuna right then and there, you said you would stay willingly. Has my brother turned into someone who breaks his word to his Anija while you were gone from me?”

The pink lips purse in irritation. “I am staying willingly. But willingly does not mean eagerly. And you are not my Anija.”

He waves away the resistance as if it were inconsequential. He'll win him over. Tobira-chan can't continue to be stubborn forever. “I brought you your favorite grilled saba, Tobira-chan.”

“I will eat later.”

He sets down his wrapped meal with a huff, and moves to sit next to his brother's side. The younger man immediately stiffens and tries to move away from him...or would have if he didn't draw him into a hug.

“Tobira-chan, your Anija just misses you. You never used to be so difficult...”

His pale brother struggles out of his arms. “Why do you persist in playing this game? Your brother is dead, and I am not he.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Tobira-chan. You came back to me—”

Pale hands grip his face gently, almost tenderly...and it's so much like how his brother used to be that Hashirama thinks he could _cry_.

(He's missed him. He's missed this. Kami-sama...he thought he'd never have this again after Izuna...after Izuna...)

“Are you truly so insane as to believe that? Are you truly so gone that you would replace him?”

He opens his eyes (when had he closed them?) and stares at those searching red ones in dismay. “Tobira-chan...”

“Izuna told me a bit of what happened, you know, what Mito told him. Your brother died at his blade, and you blame yourself because you asked him to hold back. He says you went mad because of it, and that Madara told him you were different before. That you are now lost and adrift.”

Those red eyes search him, almost wondering. “This world is more different than I can imagine if a version of me inspired such feelings within you—but it is truly different, and you must not mistake the two.”

Those slender hands—elegant hands, and Hashirama had always thought they suited his scholar-warrior brother—move away from his face, and Hashirama grasps onto them, desperate. “Kami-sama gave you back to me,” he whispers frantically. “Kami-sama returned you to me, even though I was such a bad brother...”

The fluffy white hair whips about as its owner shakes his head. “You know that is not true, Hashirama-san.”

The honorific felt like a dagger in his heart.

“Tobira-chan...”

“Hashirama-san. I must leave, sooner or later. I _must_ return to my Anija and to my own world. Think about how you would feel...you are the counterpart of my brother in another world. Can you not feel compassion and release me? I cannot stay here indefinitely...”

Hashirama stiffens and tightens his hands around his brother's fine slender ones. “You speak nonsense, Otouto.”

“Hashirama-san...”

“Anija,” he corrects, his voice sharp. He feels his chakra churning about him and ruthlessly suppresses it. “You will remain here. You will remain with me. And I will _make_ you be reasonable.”


	15. Incest: Making Him Reasonable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing a few chapters of incest route, and then a few chapters of non-incest route. This is incest route.

**Making Him Reasonable**  
  
  
Days turn into weeks, and Hashirama's attempts to “make” him be reasonable are increasing. He's spending more time in Tobirama's room, an intense gaze leveled on him each time, presenting Tobirama with his favorite foods, puzzles for mental stimulation, attempts to draw him into reminiscing about their childhood.

It's sad in a way. It's like Hashirama has really forgotten that he is not his brother. That he is from another world and cannot be his brother.

Tobirama would feel sorry for him if he weren't holding him captive, if he weren't threatening this world and keeping Tobirama from his Anija. If he didn't look at him with such disconcerting eyes and attempt to hug him.

His skin prickles after Hashirama trails a light hand down his arm, once against trying to get him to fall into familiar childhood intimacy and ignoring all of Tobirama's increasing discomfort and his attempts to push him away.

This Hashirama seems determined to mold him in the shape of his dead brother, and there's a different element there, from his Anija's eyes. A smoldering intensity that is different from his own brother's easy affections, and it unsettles him, sending frissons of unease up his spine.

If he could, he would like to jump away from the man, but those strong arms trap him, forcing him into the hug and...

He's trapped.

He's trapped, and there's no way out that he can find from the inside.

He's trapped, and he must rely on either Izuna to bust free or his Anija to rescue him because this Hashirama...this Hashirama _will not let him go_.

* * *

Days turn into weeks, and Hashirama tries to draw his little brother into the routines they had in the past. He tries _so hard_ to get past Tobirama's defenses, to have him look with eyes other than that of an enemy, or worse, an interloper.

He tries, but he fails.

Every to engage in fond memories from the past is ignored. Every attempt to hug him is rebuffed until it seems as if Hashirama is hugging a stiff, dead log, the tension so deep in Tobirama that even this does not relax him.

Tobirama eats his favorite food with as much equanimity as he endures Hashirama's desperate attempts to connect with him, and he's so, _so_ tired by it.

He just wants his little brother back, is that too much to ask?

He just wants his little brother back in his arms, protected and safe where he belongs.

Instead of...instead of...

 _Burned_ , a dark voice deep inside him whispers. _Consigned to the heavens and already dwelling in the afterlife._

_You lost him. You lost him, and he is forever gone for you. And those dreams you had in the past, of holding him close...those are gone too._

No, he shakes his head frantically, determined to put it out of his mind. Tobirama isn't lost. He's right there. The kami have returned him despite Hashirama's carelessness. This is his chance to do it all over again, the right away.

And as for the dreams...they are just dreams. Just innocent futile dreams of a happier time, nothing so crass as, as...

Tobirama leans over to take another bite of his saba, his leg briefly visible in the yukata Hashirama had given him to wear today. That flash of pale flesh, a color not unlike the full moon in all her pale glory, the taut muscles of his honed thighs...

Hashirama gulps and all but runs out of the room, barely remembering to redo the seals, stammering through the door that he forgot to feed Izuna to the food that day.

It is a brief period of madness, is all. It is only missing his little brother and hoping he would come to his senses, that he would realize their _closeness_ and history and accepting Hashirama's brotherly love. It's because Tobirama is being difficult, is all. And his love is being confused by the man's reticence, by his reluctance to engage in _any_ form of intimacy with him.

That's all.

That's it.

Nothing untoward.

They are brothers.

He leaves for his office, planning on going over the new armaments should Madara, Mito and his counterpart try to attack again and take his brother from him, memories of that pale thigh tantalizing his every thought.


	16. Incest: Before the Road to Damascus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know...I like to tease. :)

**Before the Road to Damascus**  
  
  
This Hashirama seems determined to win him over—books that appear on his table as if by magic, just the theories he himself had been pursuing on his own world, treatises on different plants and animals and the best ways to utilize them, weapons designs that he might be interested in incorporating into his own arsenal—and if this were his own world, if it were his own Anija doing this, Tobirama would be beyond grateful...he'd be ecstatic!

(He carefully fingers the spine of an old volume, almost reverently fingering the cracked old leather binding. It's ancient, but it's _so_ interesting, all about the evolution of Suiton across three different continents and 500 years...and it's something he's never even _seen_ before. The mathematical theories in it...the formulas...the history of it all...It almost makes up for him being imprisoned here. Almost.)

Or perhaps not. This Hashirama also seems determined to _drive Tobirama absolutely mad_. He slips in and sits beside Tobirama when he's busy reading, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when the man with his brother's face suddenly peers over the edge of his book. He sneaks up and hugs Tobirama from behind when he's engrossed in studying the room for the 50th time for an escape route, going stir-crazy with being trapped in here. He _barges_ in when Tobirama is trying to dress in the morning and when Tobirama is busy disrobing at night.

(And is it just his imagination or is this doppelganger of his brother lingering too long in his presence? Even for a madman, even for a man obsessed with him, there's something...unsettling...about his gaze. Tobirama could swear that he feels the prickly unease of eyes caressing his body, but when he turns, all he sees is an innocent smile as the man offers him some fish.)

This can't go on. This can't be allowed to continue. He will go mad at this rate. He must stop it.

He must.

* * *

There is hope. His Tobira-chan is softening to him, he can feel it. His eyes go soft when Hashirama offers him another book, a smile _almost_ curving his lips as he takes the old leather-bound volume. He handles it so delicately, so carefully...as if it were a sapling in need of protection from the winter. And once he's alone, Hashirama's poppies tell him that he smiles when he carefully thumbs through it.

(Hashirama doesn't know how he feels about that. He wishes his Tobirama would smile at him. He wishes his Tobirama would look upon him with those soft eyes, but...well, if he doesn't smile at him now, then Hashirama just needs to try harder).

Or perhaps not. His Tobira-chan is just as stubborn as he remembers, firmly determined to ignore him. He pretends he's so engrossed in his book, he doesn't see Hashirama when he comes into his room (as if anything could take Tobirama by surprise), and then startles when he leans over to ask him how his book is. He snaps when he's hugged, as if he isn't used to a lifetime of Hashirama hugging him. And he flushes with anger when Hashirama comes by to wish him good morning as he wakes and good night as he prepares to go to bed.

(It's so disheartening. All he wants to do is become closer to his own precious little brother. Is that really too much to ask? All he wants to do is to go back to those happy days before...before...before Tobirama was injured. But his brother looks suspiciously at him even when he's just offering him some of his favorite fish.)

This can't go on. He needs more. He needs more from his beloved little brother. He needs sweet, sweet smiles and tenderness and a lovely voice calling out for his “Anija.”

(He needs to imprint the memory of that haori slipping off pale shoulders, of the hakama slowly pushed down slim hips, of pale cheeks flushed in ~~anger~~ pleasure and brilliant red eyes sparking with...with...).

He swallows thickly.

No, that's not what he wants. He just wants his brother. Just for a very normal fraternal love to bloom between them again. Just for a return to times past.

Just that.

(He's always been good at lying to himself.)


	17. Incest: Damascus

**Damascus**  
  
  
It starts off innocently enough. He notices the dark circles beneath his beloved little brother's eyes. It's not so much of a surprise, not really. His Tobira-chan has never slept well, not even when he was a young boy. But Hashirama doesn't think it's ever been this bad before—this incessant tossing and turning that his poppies tell him robs his little brother of his precious sleep.

He knows his Tobira-chan. He'll binge on a research project or get taken up by something interesting, and then he'll forget to sleep...so it's important that what little sleep he _does_ get is quality. This recent spate of restlessness can't be doing his constitution any good.

And it's really his own fault. Those books he gave him...his brother was always too interested in such things.

So he'll just...help him along like a good elder brother. Just a little bit of poppy milk mixed into Tobira-chan's tea—it wasn't difficult at all to breed some varieties whose milk is tasteless and scentless—and he will sleep much better now.

Not too much...just a little. Just to help him relax. It's all for his own good.

“Why do I feel so tired all of a sudden?” His brother sways where he's sitting in his chair, his pupils dilating as the drug starts to take effect.

Hashirama scoots closer—just in case his precious little brother falls off, of course. He wouldn't want him to hurt himself.

He licks his lips, suddenly nervous for some reason. “How do you feel? Perhaps I can diagnose it?”

“Dizzy, like I'm about to—”

He topples off his chair, just as Hashirama expected, landing right in Hashirama's arms.

“W-what did you d-do to me?” —and really, the suspicion is utterly unnecessary. He's only doing this for his brother's own good. Just to help him sleep, that's all.

He contrives to look innocent. “Do? Nothing, Tobira-chan. Why would I harm you? I'm your Anija, after all.”

Despite his words, his little brother pushes him away in a sudden surge of strength and staggers to his feet...only succumb once more to Hashirama's embrace.

“Shhh...it's alright, Otouto,” he croons as his brother's struggles die down. “It's alright. Just relax.”

“Y-you d-drugged m-me,” his brother says, his voice a mere whisper, the strength gone from him.

Hashirama hefts him up into his arms. Tobira is pliable now. So very malleable.

“ _Why_?”

And really, does he need to sound so betrayed? This is all for his own good.

But he responds anyways. Because he's a good big brother. “To help you sleep, that's all. That's it.”

Those dazed eyes—the red's just a thin ring now, overtaken by black pupil—look up at him, almost uncomprehending, before they slide shut.

Hashirama checks his pulse. Strong, steady, even.

Good.

And now...it's time to put him into his futon.

Gently, he strips his Tobira down to his underclothes, his brother's white head lolling against his shoulder. And when that's done, he starts to slide him into the covers and...

Wait. He should...he should check Tobira. Just to make sure he's completely healed from when he first returned to him. Yes. Yes he should do that. Just to make sure that nasty sword wound is gone now. After all, what kind of a brother would he be if he didn't even check up on that kind of injury? What if it had taken a downturn?

It's practically his _duty_.

With deft fingers, he opens his brother's nightclothes and...

Oh.

He runs one hand reverently along the smooth pale skin, marred here and there by a few old scars.

His brother has such silky skin for a renowned warrior. Such supple, soft, entrancing skin. Pale like the moon and just as beautiful. Surely he wouldn't mind if Hashirama just...touched a little, would he? He's not doing any _harm_? He's just marveling at his brother's skin, that's all. At how tender it is. He's a medic and...it's important to learn of different skin types and how they deal with damage.

Yes, it's for his knowledge. And to remind himself that Tobira's still here with him. Just a few strokes of the hand, just to remind himself that his brother is there, still alive, still with him...that's all. That's all it is.

Practically harmless. Just a light deft touch up the firm muscles of the abdomen, running along one breast...It's just to remind himself that his Tobira-chan hasn't gone from him.

He swirls one finger delicately around one nipple, watching with fascination as the little brown nub quickly pebbles into hardness, and it's...

It looks so delicious. He just wants to lick it. And that's still harmless, isn't it? Just a little taste. His Tobira-chan won't even know. Just a little taste, and perhaps that's strange, but...well...Hashirama almost lost his little brother. No one would blame him for keeping a memory to himself.

He bends his head down, his hair trailing along the pale skin, fanning over his brother's form, and he licks it gently. It's salty with the faint tang of sweat, and it tastes like...like...

_It tastes clean and whole and Tobirama, like his beautiful, beloved little brother. It tastes like the most important person in the world._

Oh, oh no. This...this...

He swallows.

It's not enough.

One taste is not enough.

He has to have more.


	18. Incest: Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn

**Taken**  
  
  
With shaking hands, Hashirama parts his brother's nightclothes.

One look to tide him over. That's all he'll do. What could it do? His Tobira would never know. Drugged as he is, he doesn't even stir.

Before he can change his mind, he pulls down the fundoshi from the pale curve of that round ass, takes one creamy thigh in his hand and slowly hefts it up over his shoulder. His other hand runs down the smooth skin of the back of the thigh, catches a meaty globe and...pulls.

He whimpers at the sight.

A long narrow cock, perfectly curved and shaped, just as Hashirama had imagined. And beneath it, a soft pink furl, tight, untouched, _pristine_.

Possibly untouched. Possibly pristine. He can't really know...

What if...what if some _undeserving swine_ has touched his beloved little brother? What if someone took him in the most intimate of ways? What if Hashirama isn't the first one to see this lovely sight?

He swallows.

He has to know. He's already come this far...he might as well check.

A brief moment of concentration, and he wills slick sap to coat his fingers. Just...just the tip of the finger...to test the familiarity of the muscles. Just that much. He'll stop after that.

He slides one finger in, pushing past the sleep-lax muscles and...

Sage, it's tight.

It's like watching a flower unfurl, the smooth muscles opening for him, allowing him to slide to the first knuckle, the second, all the way to where his index finger meets his palm. It's so hot and so tight that it grips his finger like it doesn't want him to let him go and...

“I won't...I won't leave you lonely, Tobira-chan,” he whispers to the lax face against his shoulder. “Your body wants me to stay, and so I'll stay. I'll stay and help you find release. It'll help you sleep better. And then...And then I'll go back to my own room.”

His cock throbs where it stands erect in his lap, but he ignores it. He'll palm it off later, in his own quarters, because tonight is about making sure that Tobirama is satisfied and comfortable. Yes, that's what he'll do. As a good Anija.

This is about _Tobirama_ , about servicing _his dear sweet Tobira-chan._ That's all.

He stretches Tobirama with that one finger, tenderly caressing the warm hot insides, teasing at the channel's silky walls. Soon, one finger becomes two and then three, and his Tobira is moaning so prettily as he reaches into him so deeply, caressing his very core, inserting and withdrawing and inserting again and again.

His Tobira whines, whimpering, and Hashirama wants to hear that sound again, he wants to help his brother enjoy himself and achieve pleasure and...

It's so hot in here. He really should make sure he doesn't drip sweat on his brother. His Tobira-chan can be so fastidious. He'll just...disrobe.

Yes, that's it. That's a good idea. Open the haori and loosen his hakama, and shove down his own fundoshi. Kick all of the too-hot clothes to one side so he may more comfortably attend to his gasping brother.

“Sh...Otouto,” he whispers. “I'm here with you. I'm here.”

He leans down and kisses the erect cock on its head.

“You're so pretty, my Tobira-chan...Anija is just going to help you enjoy yourself.”

His Otouto was enjoying himself so much before, with Hashirama's fingers. He seemed to take to fingers in his ass like a fish to water, whining piteously when Hashirama removed them.

He should put them back in. Use them to bring Tobirama off.

He moves to slide three fingers back into him...and then stops. He looks at his fingers regretfully. Are they even long enough for his brother? Thick enough? Sure, his Tobira-chan had been enjoying them, but that was because he is relatively inexperienced! Now, after he's had a taste...he _must_ want something more?

And it has been so long, and his sweet Tobira is so responsive...

It can't hurt, can it? Just a little taste. “I can make this good for you, Otouto. You'll feel closer to me after you've known me in this way. Just...”

He carefully lays Tobirama back, his legs parted and held up. He lines himself up. “Let me in, Tobira-chan. Let me into your heart, your body. Let me have all of you. Let us be what we were meant to be.”

A bit of concentration to slick his throbbing cock, and he guides it to that loosened furl and pushes, sinking, centimeter by centimeter, into the lush, velvety tightness until he sheaths himself fully, gripped in the sweet embrace of his beloved brother's body.

It's almost too much for him, and he shudders at the tight heat. “So good,” he gasps. “You were made for me, for me to have you. So perfect.”

He stays there, clutched in that silky channel, for a little while before he regains his breath. He starts thrusting.

“Let us be closer Tobira. Let us be truly brothers, the way we were meant to be.”

He plunges in, pulls out, and grind back in, forcing Tobira's hips into the futon.

“I won't overlook you again. I won't be a bad brother anymore. I promise...”

He feels his orgasm begin to build, and he pounds that much loved body into the futon, plunging in and out with abandon.

“I won't let you forget us. I won't let you go. You were meant to be with me. I'll keep you with me.”

He feels the body below him writhe and twist and spasm around him— _rippling_ around him as its owner releases between them—and, with a roar, he buries himself as deep as he can and fills that warmth with his own spend.


	19. Incest: Awakening in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Tobirama wakes up. And is NOT HAPPY.

**Awakening in Hell**  
  
  
Tobirama wakes, if it can be really called that. His eyes refuse to open, glued shut as they are, his head pounds as if all of their Uzumaki cousins were testing explosive seals on top of him and there is something cloying, thick and—salty?—coating his tongue. Everything is muted—touch, sound, thought, and his limbs are so heavy that they don't feel part of him at all. Just dead logs at his side and spread wide on his bed.

It takes an embarrassing long amount of time for him to realize...

Why are his legs spread wide?

And gradually, as he comes to more and more, the waking world paring away from the his sleep-fogged mind and rousing him to sensation, he registers other things.

One: that there's a rhythmic rocking under him, as if he was on a boat or some sort.

Two: that there's a tingle traveling up his spine, pooling heat in the pit of his belly.

And three: that he's so, so full, full and then empty, and then full again, on and off, in a movement aligned with the rocking of his body.

He blinks his eyes open, realizing just what this all means, and suddenly notices the hand on his hip, the moans above him and...

Anija.

Anija on top of him, Anija _inside_ him. Anija...

He gasps, his body surging in pleasure even as his mind _revolts_ at the thought. He gasps...

...and he struggles, fighting against the hand on him, against the pleasure that's seeking to erupt from him, the tightness in his belly, the peaking of his nipples, the cries that try to escape from his parched, so, so parched—it's the saltiness, the salty thick creamy taste on his tongue—throat, his trembling, too tired, too sore, too relaxed muscles... He loses and comes with a shout, his eyes wide, still not quite realizing...realizing...

His Anija had just forced himself on him while he was...was...

“ _Get off me_ ,” he growls—or tries to. His voice is still weak from whatever drug it was that Anija, no, that Hashirama (this isn't his Anija, his Anija is far, far away from here, and he's being held by a _monster_ , no matter the similarities) fed to him, instinctively choking on the thickness on it.

Cum, he realizes. Because it's different than what he can remember falling asleep to, and that means that Hashirama used his mouth as well.

And now the bastard is trying to soothe him, trying to pet his arms as if _he's_ the one acting strange, as if _he's_ the one being unreasonable.

“You monster,” he spits. “You forced yourself on me when I couldn't fight back? You drugged me and—”

He doesn't think he's ever been so angry in his entire life.

Even that time when his Anija had turn his bookshelf into a tree...

No. Not even that could compare.

The man—the _bastard_ —reaches out again for Tobirama's arm, and he flinches back, hating how, now, he'll forever associate this with his Anija. He'll forever associate these actions with his Anija's face.

“Don't touch me,” he screams, but the man—he refuses to think of him as Hashirama, refuses to allow that connection no matter what his brain might want to do—takes him into his arms despite his thrashing and his struggles.

“You'll hurt yourself, sweet Otouto,” the monster holding him says, and he's almost incredulous at how ridiculous those words are after what just transpired.

“Otouto? You still try to claim me as such when you've just been inside of me in such a way? When you—”

He thinks of the taste in his mouth, of the soreness in his ass, of the way his muscles tremble weakly, as if he's been used all night. He thinks of himself, insensate to this man's moans, the cock rocking into him, parting him for the first time, all while he was forced into an unnatural, deep sleep, unaware as his body was...was...

He can't even say it, as if saying it will make it more real. Materialize the actions into reality, as if they haven't already been visited upon him while he was helpless.

Rape.

He was raped.

By a man who looks exactly like his brother.

He wants to scream.


	20. Incest: Some May Call It Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically...Izuna is bored. A change of pace. :)

**Some May Call It Torture**  
  
  
He's bored, so very, very bored. He sits in his cell, lies on his back, watching the stones everyday, stares at the same ceiling, eyes roving over that same door ever time it opens and a sneering Hashirama—the sneer really doesn't suit him...his face is naturally smiling and optimistic and isn't truly made for such an unpleasant, severe look—stops by to hand-deliver his daily meals, brown eyes glaring at him as if his very presence itself is an imposition on the man's patience and hospitality. (Well, if he doesn't want Izuna here, then he should let him go. Preferably sooner rather than later.)

It's a lot more mundane than he had initially thought it would be. No torture. No interrogation. Not even vengeance for killing the madman's brother (that he can understand...that he can appreciate).

No, just unending, unchanging sameness. The stones, the ceiling, the door, over and over and over until he's fidgeting, squirming, desperate to do something that will _change_ things.

Anything.

He shifts as the door opens again, and familiar brown eyes glare at him as a tray is slid over, its owner keeping its distance, a familiar routine that Izuna could recite in his sleep and most definitely made its way into his nightmares by now.

If only the distance was from fear—that would at least make it interesting! But it is not so. Hashirama does not fear him but loathe him for what he did to the Tobirama of this world, and he makes that abundantly clear.

(He doesn't regret it. How can he? He did his duty to his brother and clan. He may regret the circumstances that resulted in it, regret never having had the chance of knowing Tobirama—would he be more like the Tobirama of that other world that he met or would he be as crazy as their own madman has become?—but his own action was justified based on the information he had at the time. How was he supposed to know the madman ordered his own brother to stand down? What kind of a brother does that? How does that make _any_ sense?)

He meets the eyes of the madman calmly, smirking at the fury he sees there, at the plain wish to be rid of him and not have to offer the basic necessities of survival and waits until he leaves before he rolls over again and faces the wall.

He's tired. Boredom has made him tired.

He eats when he wants, when he's hungry, and he's not hungry now. Not when all he can see, day in and day out, are the exact same four set of walls, the exact same ceiling, the exact same door.

No variation. No color. Nothing to do. The same thoughts circling round and round his head, no beginning and no destination.

He can't even test the door. What good would it do? He's already tested it tens of times—no give at all, not anything he can use to break it open, to escape, to free himself.

There's Mito's instructions, but those don't come very frequently at all. Just once a week, and he devours them readily, eagerly, mind starved for any kind of stimulation.

They ask for information, and he writes back—good of Mito to demand proof of life this way—any information he thinks he sees, coded of course. They relay instructions—wait, observe, report—and he does so dutifully.

But whatever he has been able to give them, whatever plans they're making aren't enough. There's never instructions for how long to wait or when he might be sprung from this jail.

Just...wait.

He snorts. He's been doing nothing else, and if he waits any longer, his brain will melt and dribble out of his ears for lack of anything better to do.

...perhaps he was wrong to think that he's not being tortured.

This monotony, this _decay_. It is torture.

If only there was something to change it, if only the pieces would fall into place so Aniki and Mito and even that other Hashirama (he'll never like him, he's too reminded of what that man can become every single day) could rescue him and the other world's Tobirama!

He wonders at these moments...is Tobirama fairing well? Perhaps the Senju is formulating some way of escape on his own? Perhaps he'll manage to come up with something brilliant like the Senju Tobirama that Izuna never truly had the chance of knowing would?

It's his only salvation, his only bit of color in an otherwise grey world, and how ridiculous it seems! To take comfort from the memories of his enemy's cleverness. To take gleeful enjoyment imagining what his old rival's lookalike might be getting up to. And how he would have once laughed at the thought!

He's not laughing now.

He's just...wiling away the hours, hoping for something, anything, _anything at all_ to happen.


	21. Incest: Hysteria

**Hysteria**  
  
  
Hysterical, that is the only explanation that makes sense. His dearest little brother, the light in his life, has gone temporarily mad. Nothing else will explain the senseless accusations leaving his mouth. Nothing else will explain his violent behavior, the way he scratches at his own skin and kicks at him when he's hugging him.

Hugs used to relax him in the past, used to ground him...but now he just screams louder, harder and fights Hashirama's arms more desperately.

It grieves him.

Tobirama is so dear to him, and he can't even give him comfort. Tobirama is so dear to him, and to have him accuse him of such terrible things, to _sincerely_ seem to believe in them too...

How could he _force_ himself on him? On the most important person in the world to him? On his precious person? How could he rape Tobirama? How could Tobirama even think such a thing?

(His body doesn't lie. His body is open and honest, and it _welcomed_ him...it gripped him so eagerly, so greedily the previous night, allowing him to sink into its warm, silken depths and drinking his cum eagerly. His brother found such enjoyment, too...releasing each time he took him. How can he use such a vile word to describe the beauty of what they did last night?)

Izuna's fault.

This is Izuna's fault somehow. He must have corrupted his Tobira-chan despite being under lock and key and sealed. Or perhaps Mito or Madara...

He narrows his eyes in thought, effortlessly restraining his brother's struggles with his superior strength. Perhaps those letters his enemies had been sending Izuna had something on them that would do something like this...

He's checked those letters himself, easily cracking the code they're using, but he's discovered nothing damning or useful so far. But that doesn't necessarily mean they are harmless. He might have missed a secondary hidden code...or he might have missed some hidden poison that might affect his poor brother more than he.

Best to send them to the Yamanaka to deal with. They are quite intelligent. If there's something he's missed, they are certain to be able to find it.

And in the meantime...

“I'm sorry, Tobira-chan,” he croons against that wildly thrashing form. “I'm sorry Anija didn't do a good job protecting you. Whatever they did to you to cause this...whatever they did to you to put this _delusion_ into your mind, I will find a way to undo it. I will find a way to fix this.”

He tries petting the strong back soothingly, but his hand is knocked off, and Tobirama tries to kick him. He's forced to use his vines on his beloved brother, and the sight of Tobirama, trussed up and glaring up at him from beneath layers of green has his heart constricting in pain and anger.

That this should happen when his Tobira had been moaning so prettily for him...that this should happen just when it seems he had brought his Tobira-chan pleasure and relaxed him...

They will pay.

“Tobira,” he pleads, trying to get through to him, but those red eyes are as hard as ice and nearly as distrustful. It breaks his heart to see his Tobira looking at him thus, looking at him as if he were a monster, as if he wished him harm.

As if he were an enemy.

I'm not an enemy, he wants to cry. I'm not your enemy, and I love you. Anija loves you beyond anything and everything! Why won't you believe me?

Why hasn't anything he's done, everything he's tried, worked?

But he doesn't.

Whatever it is that's done...whatever it is that Madara and Mito and that little fucker Izuna did, it will take more than words to fix. It will take chakra, it will take jutsu, it will take actions, it will take time.

And it will take Tobirama calming down first.

He doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to dose him again so soon—poppy milk can be addictive, and he doesn't want to start his Tobira-chan on that path—but he could seriously injure himself if he keeps straining against Hashirama's vines.

With great reluctance, he reaches into his haori and removes the small bottle he'd kept of the substance. It's the last of the bit he's formulated, but he will simply grow more if he needs it. In a lightning-quick movement—Tobirama may be the fastest but Hashirama is no slouch—he pinches shut his dear Tobira-chan's nose and pours the few drops into the opened mouth, covering it to prevent him from spitting it right back out at him.

“Shhh,” he soothes, stroking the neck gently until Tobirama swallows.

“There,” he says, brushing back Tobira's hair even as his struggles die down and his head begins to loll. “Rest until you are well, my sweet Otouto. Anija will take care of you.”

“Anija will take care of everything.”


	22. Incest: Shinobi no Mono

**Shinobi no Mono**  
  
  
When he wakes this time, he knows exactly where he is, exactly what has been done to him, exactly who is next to him and exactly what he needs to do. The anger is still there (the acrid taste of betrayal and fury and helplessness, and he just wants to _rip_ it all out), lingering in his breast like the banked embers of an improperly put out fire—not put out, but simply smoldering, waiting for its opportunity to burst into flames anew and burn everything down.

(It's not right. It's not what he's used to. He's not fire. He's water, the rapid cool depths of a furious powerful river itself, but his power has been dammed up, blocked by walls of powerful, indestructible ironwood, not even a trickle escaping. It will collapse at some point, his waters bursting out from within, but he hasn't made a big enough crack yet, he hasn't pushed through that first small trickle he needs. And so he'll play a slow smoldering ember instead.)

“Tobira-chan?”

It takes a minute for him to will back the fury rising in him, to paint a sereneness he most definitely does not feel, his eyelashes lowered as if he's past the moment of fury that had Hashirama drugging him again—as if he could ever be over that! As if that is forgettable, let alone forgivable!

“Tobira-chan, are you...?”

He breathes deeply. Calm, he wills himself, his eyes flashing under his lowered lashes. Treat this like a mission. If he struggles, if he makes obvious his anger, he will get nowhere. He will be drugged again before he knows it and, if pushed hard enough, who knows what Hashirama will do to him. He's already violated his body. What else might he do now that that taboo is crossed, now that those walls are torn down?

What next is a target? Tobirama's very mind itself?

The thought is anathema, and if he were free, he would flee from it, turn his face away and refuse to acknowledge the possibility.

But he's not free, is he? He's a prisoner of _monster_ who apes his Anija's face and mannerisms and gorges himself on Tobirama's body, and if he wants to escape, he will need his wits about him.

He is a shinobi no mono, a master of subterfuge and misdirection. It is time to remember that, to make use of certain tools he has at his disposal no matter how...distasteful.

(He will hate himself, he knows. He will _despise_ himself for what he must do, but the possiblity of remaining this man's prisoner forever, forced to endure his touch...or worse, having his mind forcibly ripped away from him...that is not an option. He will die before he surrenders to it.)

“Forgive me,” he murmurs, gazing up at the man through white lashes, his face twisted into an expression of grief.

Remember when Anija wouldn't look at him after the battle. Remember when he turned himself away from his brother's office, afraid to announce his presence. _Channel it_.

“These days have been trying, and I...I've never...” He bites his lip, allowing some of his real fear to rise up to the surface.

 _The best subterfuge is real,_ his father had always intoned. _The use of real emotions, real memories, real feelings...in the service of a lie_.

He was always his father's best student, and the most practiced shinobi no mono of his family.

“I didn't know you thought of me that way. And you _drugged_ me too... _why_?!”

He's close to sobbing, remembering how terrifying it was to feel himself dragged under, helpless to do anything at all. He fights against the tremors rising in him...and then thinks better of it and allows a couple to wrack his shoulders, allows his voice to grow coarse and strained. A large familiar hand clasps his shoulder and squeezes, and he flinches away, both instinctive and by design.

“Otouto,” Hashirama's aggrieved voice washes over him, and he lowers his head again, clenching his hands against the bedsheets still covering his lap.

“Aren't you my brother's counterpart? Aren't you supposed to watch my back, and I yours? Why do this to me? Why _use_ me in such a way?”

“Use?”

Strong hands grab his arms and pulls him forward against a solid chest. He only just manages to stop himself from trying to rip off the man's face.

“Tobira-chan, I wasn't using you. I only wanted you to sleep well, I swear! You've been so tired...”

“Tired?”

A sorry excuse for rape. A sorry excuse for having been forced to wake up to a man enjoying his body without his permission.

“Then why did you enter me while I was asleep? Why did you break all social taboos? Why did you—” rape “—have me while I was not aware?”


	23. Incest: First Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like I'll be stuck in the incest portion for a LONG while. Welp, there goes all my plans.

**First Move**  
  
  
Hashirama looks away—don't think of him as his brother's copy, don't make any additional connection between them, it is undeserved, undeserved, _undeserved_. His arms drop to his side, releasing Tobirama, allowing him to fall away from him, back to the bed, back to...

His hands clench on the silken fabric, his fingernails wrenching at the fine, strong fabric. He had never been safe here, here in this world that is not his own, a prisoner of a man who will allow him nothing to call his own. It had not been safe, but it had been...predictable. And he had found a routine in that predictability.

Rise, eat, try to find a weakness to exploit and escape back to Anija.

But now that routine is stripped away. He cannot rely on it anymore. Now that routine involves the unknown, the threat of contamination of a bond, a relationship he held dear. A contamination...and also an opportunity. A true opportunity for freedom. An opportunity for escape.

An opportunity that he can only make use of if he draws upon skills that he would much rather not use.

 _Shinobi no mono_ , he reminds himself and forces his arms to push himself back up, back to the madman with his brother's face. He forces himself to reach out and grasp one of the hands that had fallen back, to hold it in his own, his eyes lowered on the futon, lower lip delicately grasped between his teeth...

He's no fool. He's been captured before, though not for long, and knows what some people think of his looks. Knows what they make of his sprinter's body and unusual coloring. An albino is not common in this country of Hi no Kuni, and particularly not one who lives as long as he. Those who do not think him cursed and grotesque find him exotic and alluring. He just never thought that someone remotely connected to Anija could regard him like that.

No.

Not connected to Anija. They are nothing similar.

Hashirama made that abundantly clear the previous night.

“Will you not answer me? Do I not deserve even that?” he whispers.

Immediately, the hand in his move up to cup his chin, tilting his head up and forcing his eyes to meet troubled brown ones.

(How dare they be so familiar? How dare they be so similar?)

“No, you do, my sweet, sweet Otouto. You deserve that and much more. I...”

Hashirama trails off, and those eyes slide away for a single moment, unable to face him.

“I was too weak to protect you. I am too weak to protect you. I only wanted to bring you happiness, to bring you pleasure, but they've made you fear even that...”

He almost doesn't want to know. It sounds like the ravings of a madman—it _is_ the ravings of a madman—but he needs to know because he needs to use it against him. Gain liberties that's been denied him for these long, long weeks. The alternative is being trapped here forever, left to this Hashirama's whims, and he would rather slit his own throat.

“They?” he prompts. “Who is...they?”

Hashirama snarls, and Tobirama almost flinches away from him.

(Good. His Anija never has this expression, _never_.)

“Izuna and Madara and Mito and that ...that _fake_ that wants to take you! They've poisoned your mind somehow. Done something so that you wouldn't be reasonable, so that you would fear me.”

As if fearing the use of his body without his permission is a strange thing. As if fearing rape is absolutely unheard of.

He swallows these words and says instead, “then help me to see, will you? If they did something to my mind...help me to understand what. Only do it while I'm awake, while I'm aware. To have my consciousness be stolen from me while I am taken is...not something I am comfortable with.”

He hesitates. “You understand that don't you...Anija?”

The man instantly brightens.

“Of course, of course I will! Otouto, I will explain everything and—”

He places his hand over the one Hashirama still has on his face, watching as the man who stole his brother's face stops mid-sentence, his tongue frozen at the motion. “Izuna has been captive here, has he not? How could he have possibly have done anything? Madara and the woman who would have been my sister-in-law and...” No, he cannot refer to his dear Anija as a fake, he _will_ not, even for this. “...And the man who looks like you are different matters, but I do not think Izuna could have done something...even if he would have.”

There.

Uncertainty.

He has the edge, no matter that it is flimsy. All he needs to do is push it.

“Will you not let me see him and speak with him? Under your supervision, of course, my—dearest—brother. If you truly want to protect me...let me ask him for what he knows.”


	24. Incest: Opportunity

**Opportunity**  
  
  
He's cracking his knuckles as best as he can, a children's rhyme on his tongue— “find something to do, doesn't matter if it's one thing or two; neither interest nor usefulness needed true, all it needs is to keep the monotony away and cut away the insanity too”—when he hears it.

Footsteps. And not just one. No...Two.

He freezes, stilling the clinking of the shackles around his wrists and ankles and strains his ears to catch any hint of sound, any hint of what may be coming. All the while, adrenaline courses through him, pushing his heart into overdrive in a rabbit-like _thump, thump, thump_ that is so loud, so forceful in his ears that it almost covers the sounds he is straining for. His mind is no better, racing, going through every single possibility, each more outlandish than the last: Hashirama had a change of mind and is bringing an executioner along to kill him, Mito and Madara are come to rescue him, Madara sprung Tobirama and they're coming to rescue him, Hashirama caught Madara (please no, please not this) and is coming to put him in a cell opposite Izuna's.

The footsteps near, and he squeezes his eyes shut, almost prefering not to know. Almost.

(What if it's the last? What if his Aniki is caught? What _then_?)

He imagines his brother bursting through the door, saving him from this abject nothingness. He imagines Uzumaki Mito, her flame-colored hair twisted into the two neat buns she always wore, picking through his tethers with the point of her kanzashi.

(He imagines the sharp glare of an executioner's axe. He imagines Aniki pulled in by his hair, thrown opposite him, reaching for him but not able to touch through the distance between their bars...)

He doesn't know what he would do if it's Aniki's capture. He doesn't know what he wouldn't sacrifice if it would set Aniki free.

But then the footsteps stop at the foot of his cell and...

“I still think this is a waste of time, Otouto, but since you insist...” Hashirama's voice. And he is speaking with “otouto” and that could only be...

His eyes snap open.

No. The Senju Tobirama of this world is _dead_. He killed him.

“You brought back the dead?!” he shrieks.

Hashirama immediately growls at him. “My Otouto is NOT dead! He's healed from your treacherous attack...and is quite well at my side!”

He's about to retort that the dead don't heal when he sees Tobirama shake his head slightly, a warning in his eyes, and a look that...

Oh. He understands now. _Not_ the Senju Tobirama of this world then. The other one.

“You know he is not your otou—”

“If I may speak with Izuna, Anija?” Tobirama cuts him off, leaving Izuna blinking in confusion, his mouth still opened on the “to.”

Anija? They weren't...?!

Izuna's eyes narrow, and he watches Tobirama closely. The last time he had seen the man, he had been beaten, but was still proud and fighting, dignified in the manner in which he bargained for Izuna's life. Unyielding in his convictions. And very particular on the fact that he was _not_ Hashirama's brother.

It was the one point Tobirama refused to budge on, refused to capitalize on. He is not Hashirama's brother.

So what changed?

He studies the dark circles under those eyes, at the way he clenches his hand into a fist when Hashirama looks away, at the way he nearly, _nearly_ flinches back when Hashirama raises a hand to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes...

He can't quite tell. Not from Tobirama. The counterpart of his rival is still difficult to read, almost as difficult as his rival was. He won't get any answers from there. He'll have to look elsewhere.

So he does. One look at Hashirama, and Izuna feels nauseous. Nauseous and revolted and dizzy with the thought of what this can mean, of what this could lead to.

He had thought that his dictatorship was the lowest this man could go. And then he had thought his obvious insanity was the worst. Then his betrayal of Madara, the revelation that he himself was the reason behind his own brother's death, but this...

This might surpass all.

And he hates how the first thing that comes to mind is the _opportunity_ of it all.

He meets Tobirama's eyes, sees the same knowledge in those red orbs, and he understands.

So be it. They will play this game. And if by some miracle they survive and manage to overthrow this tyrant, he will spend the rest of his life praying for Tobirama's health and healing.


	25. Incest: Suspicions

**Suspicions**  
  
  
He doesn't trust him. That man—that Uchiha—that stole his Tobira-chan from him, that _tried_ to his steal his Tobira-chan from him, he turns those suspicious dark eyes to him, frowning at whatever it is that he saw.

(How dare he? How dare he look at Hashirama with those eyes, as if it is Hashirama that is wrong? As if Hashirama were a monster?)

His Tobira-chan glides forward, graceful and contained after his earlier distraught words and seats himself on the bunk next to Izuna. He reaches out, his elegant hands lifting the shackles that bind the Uchiha, studying them intently, those red eyes fixed on the thin line of welts surrounding the metal.

The pale head turns toward him. “Anija, would you not offer him some healing?”

He purses his lips, eyes narrowed at the Uchiha resolutely looking away from him.

(He doesn't want to. It is Uchiha Izuna he cannot trust, Uchiha Izuna he cannot abide, Uchiha Izuna whose blade slid through...through...)

Red eyes, wide and concerned and incredulous plead with him silently and...how can he say no to him? How can he say no to his Otouto, especially now that he's finally warming up to Hashirama again, finally turning towards him and calling him “Anija” in that sweet, sweet voice.

(It's been so long since he heard it. So long since he thought he had lost the right to ever hear that again. First Kawarama, then Itama and then Tobirama...)

(No. Not Tobirama. His Otouto is here with him, calling him Anija and asking for a favor.)

He will provide that favor. He will do it. No matter how much he privately does not like Izuna, no matter that he wishes the Uchiha would just go away and _die_ already, he will do as his Otouto asks.

-~&~-

He doesn't trust him. He doesn't trust that that insane man will actually provide some healing, some relief to his chafed wrists and ankles, that he won't instead take the opportunity to kill him. He's looking at him, glaring at him with those hazel-brown eyes, not even sparing the marks a single glance but instead staring at him as if he were some sort of pest to be eliminated.

(How dare he? How dare he look at Izuna with those eyes, as if it is Izuna who did something wrong? As if it's Izuna that's the monster here?)

Tobirama's sitting next to him, his tall, lanky (but too thin these days) body stiff in discomfort next to him. He still has those graceful hands on Izuna's, mindful of the raw flesh in his careful handling, and he's pinning Hashirama with an even, measured look, almost compelling the man to offer his services through icy willpower alone.

(Kami-sama, what a mistake it was to kill the younger and not the _older_ Senju. What a shame it is that Senju Tobirama were not one of theirs instead. What a power he and Izuna would have been, together.)

He stubbornly fixes his gaze on the younger Senju next to him, refusing to look at the mad Senju of this world as he reluctanty works his iryo-ninjutsu and the welts on Izuna's skin knit back up in a bright glow of green. His spine is as ramrod straight as steel, not a trace of his earlier discomfort in his form as the counterpart of his brother nears. Not even a hint of a flinch when the treeman rests his hand on his shoulder when he is done with Izuna.

Izuna swallows at the sight. Strength, even when he must be cringing away inside. Resolution when he owes it to absolutely _no one_.

There is only one thought that goes through his mind...

_We have a chance._

-~&~-

He's not sure he trusts either of them, not fully, but...Izuna has proven his reasonableness in the past already, and he can trust that at least. And Hashirama has proven his obsession. He can use it, if he's careful.

(He'll be careful. He must be careful. This is their only chance. Izuna _must_ survive, and he won't survive if Hashirama kills him because he suspects him of administering a poison that simply never existed.)

(Or if it existed, then it's the poison Hashirama administered by his own hand.)

“Anija said that I had been poisoned or influenced somehow.” He slides his hand, pretending to feel for the pulse in that captured wrist, staring into those black Uchiha eyes and hoping Izuna sees the warning in them. “He suspects you, but I think it is unlikely given your captivity here. Answer me truly...did you do something to me?”

It's ridiculous of course. A ridiculous question to an even more ridiculous suspicion, but he _must_ play this game to placate Hashirama. And then he must play more to buy time to speak with Izuna, to plot their escape and Hashirama's defeat.

Black eyes gaze solemnly into his own, and it is to his great relief that he sees them lower in comprehension, see the owner of those eyes shift with just the right level of insult.

Good. Izuna was always his rival for a reason, and he's glad to see that this world's Izuna is just as good at catching his tells...especially now when he actually _wants_ the man to note them for once.

“No, I did not. I can see why he would suspect so, but it is as you say. I am a prisoner here. How do I have any means by which to poison you? But it is possible that I was the unwitting method by which Uzumaki Mito contrived some means of harming you.”

(He faintly squeezes Izuna's wrist at that. It's a good ploy, diverting attention away. Especially since Hashirama already suspects both Mito and Madara.)

From behind him, his brother's counterpart's voice rises in suspicion, and he almost spits, “and why should we believe you?” His turn to perform then.

With a half turn, he raises his other hand and sets it atop the hand on his shoulder, just the right amount of weight to soothe the man. “Peace, Anija—” (it's easier and easier to call him that, and his heart _aches_ at that) “—I have felt his pulse. He is not lying.”

It's enough to allay the man's unfounded suspicions. It's enough to set aside his bloodlust for now. But they'll have to do better. He'll have to cajole and needle and charm until he can see Izuna, alone.

 _Shinobi no mono_ , he reminds himself.


	26. Incest: Subterfuge in Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot!

**Subterfuge in Plain Sight**  
  
  
Their information is better. Locations of new armaments, the clans that have joined Hashirama's war effort, the traps he's laid out, even the type of breakfasts he likes to eat, in case they ever decide to try and poison him. All communicated swiftly, silently, cleverly, in Izuna's writing, with Izuna's hand, and through the unique code that Izuna developed.

_My dearest Aniki,_

_There is not much to do. The smell of miso perfumes the morning air, and it wakes me just before I've achieved a good night's sleep._

“Right before the sun rises! If we want to poison the bastard...”

“And how do we know we won't accidentally get Tobirama? I won't endanger my little brother...or even Izuna!”

“Hashirama-san, unless your world is very different than ours, your brother rises a few hours after the sun has risen, but Izuna-san rises with the sun. If the smell of miso saturates the air already, then it must be only your counterpart breakfasting.”

_I am kept company by my erstwhile rival who does his best to convince me of the error of my ways. I confess that his temperament is nothing like I ever imagined, but his sense is. And I find myself agreeing with him, and seeking his advice in things. He is a great scientist and tells me of the blue birds and mockingjays that have alighted in the gardens outside recently, and also of wolf pack formations and ranking systems and even their rituals for their dead. I find myself enthralled by his words, and, if I but thought you interested, I would detail it for you._

“Has he brainwashed my brother?! Has he corrupted Tobirama?”

“No, of course not, Hashirama. Calm down. Your brother seems to have ingratiated himself somehow and is feeding Izuna information. See here his mention of blue birds and mockinjays? Those Hagoromo have betrayed us then and are siding with your counterpart. And do not forget the part about wolf pack formations and rituals for the dead? It seems our last attack did significant damage to the Hatake clan in particular.”

_He is quite unique, this rival of mine. If I had known him before...if he were not a Senju, I do believe I would have liked him. I am dismayed to find that I regret the damage I did then...I regret wounding him so terribly_

“Wound? Isn't your Tobirama dead?”

“I find myself befuddled too, Hashirama-san, but perhaps my ex-fiance is more mad than any of us would dare imagine. Perhaps he truly believes your brother to be his own.”

_but the past is in the past, and there is no changing it. I can only hope to avert the future and prevent ever more warfare._

_My captor, Senju Hashirama, has proven himself most kind. He pays enough attention to me to prevent illness, starvation or mistreatment, and it is at the hands of his brother's urging that I am recently afforded more luxuries._

“Hashirama is treating my little brother better because of _your_ little brother? How odd. I wonder how Tobirama managed that...I shall have to thank him once we succeed in getting them out of there and overthrowing the tyrant.”

_He lavishes all manners of luxuries on Tobirama-san, of course. Silks and jewels and all kind of treats...but I do not think Tobirama-san enjoys the attention. I have learned that he is a modest man, more inclined to books and contemplation, and he would much rather those attentions were not visited upon him. I can see why! Something like a silken fundoshi seems very odd to gift to one's brother. So very decadent and useless and uncomfortable it must be, for Tobirama-san._

_But I suppose Senju Hashirama is quite devoted to his brother, as siblings often are, and Tobirama-san is as understanding. I think he acquiesces to further his brother's dreams, to bring peace and enlighten me as to a better way of life._

_I find myself bending to it, just as I find myself convinced by Tobirama-san. Please join me in this understanding, Aniki. Mito-san. Hashirama-san. Yours enlightened, Uchiha Izuna_

“Clever. Very clever. Hashirama will think that Tobirama is trying to further his dream, but in reality...”

“Otouto is trying to return to _me_!”

“More than that, he's feeding Izuna-san the information he managed to get to us already. He really does remind me of the man who would have become my brother-in-law if the fates were kinder...”

“Then we will rescue them. Soon.”

“Yes. In a fortnight, with the information about fortifications in the last few letters. I do not believe we will need to poison my ex-fiance's food, and it is risky besides. The information should be enough to give us the edge we need.”

“Wait for us, Tobira-chan. Anija is coming to save you.”

“We're going to save them _both_.”


	27. Incest: The Fall Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh.

**The Fall Before**  
  
  
Izuna doesn't know what gave it away. Some small action of his own, perhaps. Or maybe Tobirama pulled away when he shouldn't have (he's being unkind, and it's below him, the man has _more_ than proven his worth, proven his value). Or even Hashirama's spy-poppies, having crept up to where Aniki, Mito and the other Hashirama are huddled, waiting for their chance.

(When are they coming? Surely they must have enough information by now, _surely_ to make a move?)

Whatever it is, he's suddenly ripped away from the man he's conversing with, thorny vines snaring his arms and legs, yanking him down, away, away, away. The thorns sink into his forearms, dig into his calves. They drag along his skin, pinching, slicing, sinking into him. He's stunned, so stunned from it all—the sudden action, the force of it, the lack of warning, the blood seeping out of the needle like barbs embedded deep into his skin—that it's embarrasingly easy to drag him away. And all the while, he watches, his eyes wide, hardly believing when Hashirama shakes Tobirama. Shakes him and, when he doesn't get whatever reply it is he's looking for, slaps him hard.

Once, twice, thrice.

He's too stunned. Too stunned and being dragged further and further away to truly hear what's being said, but he catches snippets of it. Bits and pieces of “betrayal” and “using me” and “don't you love me?” and “how could you?” and “I trusted you!”.

His throat closes in terror even as he finally (finally!) starts fighting against the vines digging into his skin, against the thorns ripping into the flesh of his forearms and legs and holding him back from someone he had come to regard as a comrade in arms, as a fellow collaborator, as a trusted confidant...

The realization strikes him even as he's dragged around a corner, near the old cell he'd only escaped a couple of weeks ago (escaped by the grace of the man who is in terrible, terrible danger, a man who traded the integrity of his own body to gain what leverage they have now given to Izuna's Aniki and Mito).

A friend. Tobirama is a friend now. A trusted, admired and appreciated friend. His friend is in danger. His friend is...

He's thrown into the cell, his back slamming painfully against the stone walls, the blood-drenched thorns and vines dragging him up, looping the shackles back around his wrists—he'd thought he escaped those, he'd thought those were in the goddamn _past_ now—and dragging on his shoulders as they're wrenched up over his head.

He struggles. Of course he does. Of course he would. The vines are unbreakable, strong as steel rope, stringing him up like some puppet on strings, but what else can he do? Tobirama is friend, and his friend is...

He hears his struggles echoed: a fight down the hall, a body resisting the vines and hands that pull him away, a half-bitten off shout (Hashirama at the least, so he's not so far gone that he would seriously hurt Tobirama just yet), a muffled curse (Tobirama, so Hashirama may have gotten the better of him then), more scuffling, and then a _thud_.

And then silence.

Loud, deafening silence, where Izuna can hear the blood rushing in his ears, and his heartbeat in his throat. A _thud, thud, thud_ that he would do anything to escape, to stop, to silence, because...

Tobirama.

What has happened to Tobirama?

What has Hashirama done to him, to the counterpart of the man Izuna has slain, to the man Izuna has come to care for?

What has he done?!

He swallows, oblivious to the wrenching pain in his shoulders, the trails of blood sliding down his bare shoulders and down his ankles, the coldness of the shackles biting into his wrists and ankles.

He doesn't know.

And that scares him the most of all.


	28. Incest: Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rape

**Break**  
  
  
He's thrown across a strong broad shoulder, bodily lifted and carried away from Izuna, his struggles ignored. His cheek burns, his heart races, his muscles scrunch up ineffectually, and all the while, there's a little voice in the back of his mind wondering where he went so wrong, wondering where he messed up. Wondering what will happen now. What will happen to Izuna? What will happen to their plans? Will Anija and Mito and Madara even be able to get here in time before this imposter _kills_ the younger Uchiha...?

He swallows and tries to force his heart to stop its frantic _thud, thud, thud_ , tries to force calm on himself so he can _think_ and plan.

Right.

Plan.

He needs to plan.

Plan and...

He's carried into his room, the seals reactivated with a wave of a hand. A distant and small part of his brain notices this skill and wonders if his death here caused this Hashirama to learn more about seals than his Anija ever did, if something like his did had such diverse and spiralling effects on this world, but the larger portion makes note of the anger almost _thrumming_ through the strong body under him, at the harsh and almost violent way he's tossed on the futon, Hashirama's bigger form following right after.

He panics.

He struggles.

Of course he does. Because Hashirama is heavy and large, and he's squashing the air right out of Tobirama's chest, trapping at his wrists and trapping them with a single hand above his head, his other hand tearing at the ties to Tobirama's yukata and...

His heart is beating so quickly, he can't breathe. He's panicking, trying to wrench away from that too warm, too stiff hand ripping away his fundoshi. His struggles are ineffective, and the thin silken cloth (a gift he hadn't wanted to accept, but couldn't say no to) splits at the seams. The large hand then slides across his bare flesh, pinching and twisting his nipples cruelly before moving down, grasping one leg firmly and hauling it up, up and out.

He bucks and thrashes, almost wild in desperation, but it's no more effective than his attempts to prevent that hand from tearing away his last cloth shield. He's soon displayed fully, his legs splayed on either side of the wide body that settled between them, the warm weight of the man with his brother's face fully stretched out against every inch of him, and he's vulnerable, vulnerable, vulnerable, forced to be so open and helpless against the cock threateningly stiff against his upturned ass, the powerful body encasing his, the nip of teeth against his arched throat, the hands pinning his wrists against the bed like shackles of steel.

No!

He'd played it coy the last few days, kept putting Hashirama off and feigning weariness in an attempt to stall (because Anija and Mito must be ready to move soon, they've provided so much intel, and Hashirama had over-extended himself, and the time is almost _ripe_ ). He'd smiled and traded kisses and a feigned willingness to prevent it from going further than he wanted (it's already farther than he had ever wanted), and he'd been so certain that they're _close_ now. Close to getting rescued and getting out and _stopping_ this.

And now...now he's back to square one. Forcefully held underneath this monster with a familiar form that pulls at his heartstrings every time he speaks to him. Now he'll be forced to take him again, to endure the brutal onslaught against his body and see again that beloved face on a monster!

Plan, he desperately wills himself. Calm and plan. He will gain nothing from panicking. He will gain nothing from being a victim.

(He's too rattled to plan. Too shaken to get his mind to think and act when there's a threat on top of him, and that threat wears the face of Anija...)

“What's the matter,” that dear, dear voice whispers in his ear. “Can't think of any way to deceive me again? Can't think of anything else to do that you haven't already done?”

He jolts as sap-slick fingers force into him, spreading immediately in a terrible, terrible stretch.

“You keep struggling now, but you weren't struggling before, were you? You were quite pliant, quite pleasant, your mouth tilted into a sweet smile—a poisonous smile! You deceived me! Your own brother! Your own lover. You opened your legs to me even as you held a kunai hidden behind your back!”

Two fingers become three and then, much too soon, something far bigger, far wider and longer is pushing into him. He arches in pain, his scream cut off by the vine wrapping about his throat.

“How could you?! How could you do this? Play the sweet seductress with me, while pretending to be so innocent, so reserved and proper. Is this what you do now, Otouto? Whore yourself? Sell yourself to gain an upper hand that you cannot gain elsewhere? Is this what my beloved brother has become? Did you do this with Izuna too?”

The bludgeon pistons in and out of him, and it's too much, too much for him. He'll tear. He'll bleed. He'll—

The voice growls. “I won't allow it, and especially not with Izuna. I'll fuck this out of you. I'll tear his eyes out. I'll change the world until it's just you and me, until you _have_ to acknowledge you're mine, wholly and without reservation.”

Heat blooms within him even as heat blooms in his eyes, and as Hashirama roars in his ear, spewing himself deep within Tobirama, the world spins, and he escapes into the blessed darkness.


	29. Incest: Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality sucks.

**Reality**  
  
  
It's only when he's drawing himself out and sees the specks of bright blood that the haze clears from his eyes...and he goes cold, his own shock stilling him.

Blood. _Tobirama's_ blood. Still red, with all the freshness that entails. And that means...

He clenches his hands into tight fists, digging nails his palms until they bleed. He doesn't even feel the sting, or his chakra instinctively knitting his flesh back together again.

He had told himself he wouldn't hurt Tobirama again. He had told himself he would protect him as he should have the first time. Because the last time that he had seen his brother bleed was...

A memory flashes across his eyes, the lightning-fast slice of a katana through the gaping crack in blue armor, the blade digging into the only opening big enough to accommodate it and slicing directly across Tobirama's belly.

A messy wound, a painful wound. _A fatal wound_.

No. It can't be. It wasn't. His beloved Otouto is before him right now, fresh red blood staining Hashirama's cock and smearing on pale thighs—

He'd disengaged with Madara, rushed to his fallen brother's side, cradling the trembling form in his arms, trying push the entrails, the organs back in. Tobirama had tried to speak, but the blood choked in his throat, and all he could manage was a gurgle before he seized. All Hashirama had was a death rattle, a convulsing of the limbs, the blank stare of mirror-like red eyes.

Red, red, red. Like the blood that stained the edges of the armor that should have protected him. Like the splatter of it on green grass and brown soil. Like the curtain of it coating opened lips.

He's shaking, trembling uncontrollably, because...when did he forget? When did he forget stitching up that terrible wound, forcing sharp needle through skin fast turning ashen? When did he forget lathing that once living, once breathing body with cleansing water, readying it for the final rites and hating himself so very, very much for having to do it at all? When did he forget the fire, the blaze, the murmur of katon that erased all traces of his nearest and dearest until only bones and ashes were left?

He rocks back on his heels, pulling away from the still form before him.

It's still breathing, Tobirama is still breathing, but that's impossible, isn't it? How can Tobirama be breathing and alive before him when he died so many months ago?

Touka had shouted at him, he remembers. She blamed him for everything and stormed off into the wilderness, preferring to be clanless and alone rather than spend one more minute with the man who cost her her favorite cousin, the child she'd all but raised. She wanted nothing to do with him, and he did not have the strength to stop her. She hasn't been seen since at all.

He'd forgotten that as well. Forgotten all of it so that he could—

He focuses back on the splayed body below him (breathing, still breathing, that gentle rise and fall of chest as the lungs expand and contract) as if seeing it for the first time...

Perhaps he is.

Otouto, he had insisted. Lover, he had forced. Prisoner, he had crafted.

But this Tobirama is not his, is he? He's from another world, a world that Mito called upon in a fit of desperation. And the sting of betrayal still stings, that Touka left him, that Mito left him, that this Tobirama tried to leave him, but it's muted now, weighed down by the reality that threatens to drown him in its pool.

He wants to go back to his dream world, a world where this is _his_ Tobirama and where Tobirama did not betray him and use him and try to leave him.

But it's not reality. And it led to this—shocking red on white thighs, the face of his beloved brother retreated into unconsciousness and pain.

With effort, he pushes himself up on shaking legs—as if he's imbibed too much wine. A word, a hand seal, and the tears within Tobirama are healing, knitting pink flesh together, still tender but able to withstand the threats from the air. He stares at him with pained brown eyes, still yearning towards that so familiar form, to that beckoning and blissful dream.

It's a lie. And by indulging in the lie, he's killed Tobirama all over again.


	30. Incest: Final Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apologies to everyone who commented on the previous chapter...I fiddled around with the preferences and accidentally turned comment notification off (and then didn't discover it until a couple of hours ago). :D

**Final Battle**  
  
  
His wood dragons are ripping through scores of villagers and some part of him weeps for them all, cries out for the loss of life—unnecessary, avoidable, senseless. It is overwhelmed by the far larger part of himself that ruthlessly squashes them all, rending them apart and piling body on top of body.

The sooner he dominates their enemies, the sooner the fighting will be over, the more people will have lived in the long run.

Shinobi no mono morals. Shinobi no mono logic. Shinobi no mono's sense of justice.

He didn't use to be the epitome of a shinobi no mono, despite all his abilities and his designation as equal to a kami's power; he used to be quite different: a dreamer, an idealist. But his brother is missing, held by the despicable man who wears his face, and he hasn't seen his own flesh and blood for many, many long months now.

This is not his world, these are not his people, and his brother is held prisoner by a madman who is obsessed with him.

Tenderness, mercy, restraint...these are all things that would delay his ability to reach his brother's side, that may jeopardize his chance of even saving Tobirama (that might cost his Tobirama his life the way the other Hashirama has already cost his own Tobirama his life).

He slams his hands together, merely thinking the release of the seal and drives an Akimichi brutally into the ground, crushing every bone in his body. Inside, he winces, but it is more for the man's compatriots than for the crushed body itself. He is dead and will feel no more pain. It is the living who suffer.

(His Otouto had better be among those or there will be hell to pay, and the kami will turn into an Oni instead.)

Next to him, Mito weaves her seals, preventing sound and chakra from escaping and alerting their true enemy. Behind him, Madara watches his back, in case one of their foes gets lucky.

They didn't succeed last time, but now...now they have intel that Tobirama acquired and Izuna coded and the other Hashirama unknowingly sent. They will succeed this time.

-~&~-

They tear into his headquarters in a sudden blast of chakra, taking him by surprise and ripping him out of the shock still hanging about his head. He had no warning, no information from his allies, from his people that the rebels were coming. It's as if they slid into the village like ghosts...

Well, he considers, dodging Madara's gunbai—ah, Madara, always betraying him, always turning his back on him. His old foe and friend. They probably did enter like ghosts. Guarded by Mito's mastery of seals to suppress any way of alerting him, utilizing the darkness to their advantage as before and clearly with whatever information Izuna had managed to send to them...

He should be angry. He should be furious, that he is betrayed on all fronts, that the people who should have been his nearest and dearest have all deserted him. Not just deserted, but acitvely turned against him, fighting against everything he's ever wished to build, turning against his visions for peace and prosperity and a _future_.

...Because that's all he really wants. A future so that other people, so that Madara and Mito and even that blasted Izuna won't have to make the sacrifices he's made, won't have to give up their last brother the way he had unknowingly sacrificed his own.

Is that too much to ask for? Loyalty, respect, a hand in his, walking with him towards that bright, glowing dream because he _knows_ what it's like to lose everything, and he doesn't want to see that happen to anyone else.

(He never meant to sacrifice his brother for his dream, but now that it's done, the only thing he can do is prevent other such sacrifices, make the entire endeavor unnecessary.)

But still, they struggle against him, refusing to heed his warnings, fighting against his efforts to make life better for them, to make life easier. They brand themselves rebels and become traitors, the ones who should have been at his side first, last and always!

Mito. Madara. (Izuna, even.)

And...

And the other world's Tobirama.

(He just wants to save him. He just wants to prevent the sacrifice of another Tobirama, because he _knows_ the man's brother, he _is_ Hashirama. And Hashirama is always blinded by his dream. And he will unknowingly sacrifice Tobirama just like he did.)

It can't be borne.

He must stop them. He must prevent them from repeating his mistakes.

And he should feel so angry that they are too blind to see that he's doing it for their own good, too willful and arrogant to consider that he may have their best interests at heart.

Except he can't quite muster that anger. He can't force the energy into his limbs, the clearness of mind he needs. He's ruined, ruined, ruined by clarity, by truly _seeing_ for the first time in so many months, and—

He falls, tripping over his counterpart's vines. A blade slices through the air, catching him in the exact same manner that his Tobirama had been caught those many, many months ago. Mito's, he recognizes. Another person he's loved and lost.

—and it will be his downfall.

Hot blood gurgles up his throat; he chokes on it. His entrails spill out on the floor.

 _Tobirama_...He's lost his brother. He's lost his dearest, most precious person. And he's hurt this other Tobirama.

He can't die yet. Not yet. He needs to prevent Tobirama's sacrifice. He needs to prevent Tobirama's death. He needs to make this Hashirama, with the steel eyes and suffocating moss chakra, _see_.

Before he does something irreversible. Before he loses everything he's cared for.

Just like him.


	31. Incest: Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nope, alt!Hashirama isn't dead yet.

**Discovery**  
  
  
He's so close to killing him. So close to ending this miserable stain that stole his face and has the audacity to steal his brother, but Madara's gunbai stops him. Mito rests a hand on his forearm and freezes him in place.

“We still need information. I'll make sure he's sealed down and disarmed. You and Madara should go find your brother and Izuna. Make sure they are well.”

He doesn't need to be told twice.

With one last glare at the bastard who caused all of this, Hashirama whirls around, following Madara's lead as the man infuses his chakra. “Izuna's that way,” he gestures, taking off at a run, and Hashirama bites off an oath. Patience, he reminds himself. Izuna is Madara's little brother, it's reasonable that his first thought is for him. It is a big brother's duty.

(But it's his duty to find Tobirama. To find him and bring him home, safe and sound and free from all of this. It's vexing to have to put Tobirama second, to have to wait for Madara to free Izuna first before they can see to his brother.)

They round a corner, and Madara rushes to the cells. Izuna is gagged and strung up, dried blood all along his forearms and calves, the metal cuff digging into the tender flesh of his wrists, and Madara mutters a heated oath at the sight of him. “I should have killed him.”

Hashirama almost points out that it was Madara and Mito who stopped him, that he had planned on ending the nightmare who wore his face at the moment they had defeated him, but Madara's already focused the entirety of his being on Izuna, deft fingers carefully blasting doton from around the inside of the cuffs and splitting them apart at the seams.

He catches Izuna and cradles him with a tenderness more befit a newborn (though with Izuna's state, Hashirama can hardly blame him). “Otouto,” he whispers, “are you well?”

But instead of reassuring him, the younger Uchiha grasps at his sleeve. “Tobirama,” he mutters urgently. “Tobirama, where is Tobirama?”

Madara's lip thin in disapproval. “We'll find him after we take care of you. Otouto...”

Izuna pushes at Madara. “No! Anija, listen. What was done to him...you have to find him! You have to stop Hashirama from, from...” And then he catches sight of Hashirama.

In all his years, Hashirama doesn't think he's ever seen Izuna blanch as white as he did at that moment. “You! Get away from Aniki! Stay away from Tobirama! I'll hurt you!”

He struggles, flailing almost violently in an attempt to (feebly) get to Hashirama, and it is out of concern that he might hurt himself that Madara encases him in a hug, gentling his struggles. “It's alright, Otouto. This is not that Hashirama, but the other one. It's okay. Look, I'll send him to get Tobirama, and then you can rest easy, alright?”

Madara turns to Hashirama, beginning to indicate where he senses Tobirama to be when Izuna interrupts with a sharp, “No!”

Madara turns back to Izuna, looking at him in astonishment. “Izuna, this is not that Hashirama...he can get his brother, and then you don't need to worry. Just calm down—”

But Izuna will have nothing of it. “Don't send him!” He practically screeches. “You go instead, but don't send _him_!”

“Izuna, he doesn't mean his brother any harm. He's just going to go fetch Tobirama, to save him too. You want him saved, right? Your letters were pretty complimentary about him—”

“He has _that man's face!_ He has _that man's chakra signature!_ How do you think Tobirama is going to react to it?”

It's a good question.

How _is_ Tobirama going to react? He's been in the other Hashirama's hands a lot longer than Izuna has. And if these weeks of captivity reduced Izuna to this...

Hashirama is almost frightened to think of what must have become of his brother.

No! Tobirama is strong. Tobirama wouldn't succumb to this fit of paranoia and lunacy.

His brother has never let him down before, ever. Not even during that last battle against Madara and Izuna.

Ah, kami-sama, how long ago that feels. How ancient. Was he ever really that man, who so callously brushed his brother aside? Was he really the cad who couldn't spare a single moment to Tobirama after a rough and dangerous battle?

He thinks to Madara's decisive decision to run to his brother first, thinks to Madara's clear priorities and obvious love and worry. Uchiha Madara, always clear-sighted, with his family in front of his eyes, first, last and always. Even the Uchiha Madara of a different world.

The thought feels like a rebuke. When was the last time he put Tobirama first? When was the last time he acted as Madara does now? Long before being brought to this world. Even before that pivotal final battle where Izuna was possibly fatally wounded.

He will be better. He will do better. He'll never let Tobirama down again, just as his little brother has never let him down. But to do that, he needs to retrieve him.

And so he darts back out of the room, towards the direction that Madara had indicated. Doing so, he feels a yawning pit open in his belly and dark thoughts circling his head like carrion crows. To elicit such a response in Izuna, a person who should have had the most reason to despise any incarnation of his brother...what has happened to him?

What has happened to Tobirama that results in such hysterics from Izuna?

He finds the room easily enough...there are so many seals, the very air itself is heavy with them, weighing down Hashirama's very lungs. With a power born of the mokuton and of the same chakra key as the other Hashirama, he rips through them all, easily tearing them away, yanking open the door.

One step, two, three.

At first, he doesn't see him (he's expecting Tobirama in chains the way Izuna was, Tobirama strung up with harsh metal and encased in too-familiar vines, with the same blood on arms and legs). When he spots him on the futon, still, but with his chest still rising with breath, skin practically unmarked but for a couple of bruises, he heaves a sigh of relief.

...and then he notices the location of the bruises. And sees the smear of pink between white thighs. And realizes that Tobirama is nude, pale body splayed wide as if he were...as if he had just been...

Bile rises in his throat, and Izuna's panic suddenly makes sense.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.


	32. Incest: Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eh, trying for understated, but might have just hit flat instead. Need to think on this. :/ I blame being drunk.

**Awakening**  
  
  
He had thought the worst was when he realized what had been done to his little brother. He had thought it couldn't get worse, that he's hit the lowest point he could have.

He's wrong.

His little brother's eyes flicker, and the younger Senju moans softly, beginning to push himself up before consciousness has even fully pierced the murky depths of the unconsciousness he lays in. Hashirama rushes forward, grabbing at the futon cover, moving to shield him from the air, silk cloth in hand and a firm, supportive, comforting hand against Tobirama's back.

Or at least, it was meant to be supportive and comforting.

(He didn't think. He hadn't thought at all. He only moved on instinct, an instinct to protect, to shield, to soothe.)

Tobirama's eyes, his _little brother's_ eyes snap open. The red in them is huge, a large, perfectly round red sphere, almost engulfing the whites entirely...almost the exact same eyes as that of a rabbit, frozen as a hawk swoops down on it.

Hashirama freezes, suddenly unsure of himself, and in that brief pause, Tobirama stiffens more and more, until he feels like stiff iron in his arms. Those eyes, just a moment ago so expressive, shutters completely, like a curtain's been drawn closed around his brother's soul, and Tobirama looks at him almost too evenly, too composed.

Like the ice that other people have accused his brother of being. Like the ice that he briefly entertained himself when Izuna fell.

“Did you want more from me, Hashirama?” Tobirama says and his voice is as evenly and careful and still as his gaze.

“Kami-sama, Tobirama, I...” he releases his brother as if he's just been stung, his hands sharply drawn back to his side. “I'm sorry...for taking so long. I should have come sooner, should have freed you from that madman...”

Tobirama's gaze is slowly changing, the red ice melting away into an intense (and almost horrified stare).

“Y-you. You're...”

Hashirama nods, a tremulous smile lighting his face. He reaches forward again, moving as if to grasp his brother's hands. “Yes, Tobirama. It's Anija! It's Anija here with you, and I—”

His beloved little brother jerks back violently, and then stops. (He can almost see him forcing his body to relax). Tobirama breathes in a deep breath, his body positively bristling with agitation and emotion as he moves to stand up and says, “then the other Hashirama is defeated? And Izuna...Izuna is safe?”

Incredulity flashes through him ( _Izuna? Tobirama's first thought is for Izuna?_ ), and Hashirama almost voices his disbelief when he notices the fine tremors in his brother's bare legs, the nearly imperceptible quaver in his voice. “Tobirama—Otouto,” he starts, trying to keep his voice low and soothing and worried (just like when they were young children). “Are you well? Are you—”

But Tobirama interrupts him again, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Answer me,” he demands. “What of Izuna?”

“Safe,” he murmurs, his hands up as if he's soothing a wild animal. “He's safe and with Madara. He's with his brother, and Madara will take care of him. But you...”

Tobirama turns from him, the relief on his face almost palpable. “Then this nightmare is truly ended. What of the other Hashirama?”

The other Hashirama. Almost a cold, distant fact. As if he's merely discussing an anomaly of this world rather than the reasons such horrors happened to it, as if he did not suffer himself in that monster's grip.

“Tobirama, what he did to you...”

His brother leans down, fetching the torn remnants of the yukata he had likely been wearing before...

Before.

“He did nothing to me that I didn't invite.”

Rage flashes through Hashirama, as sudden and hot as Madara's katon. “Bullshit,” he barks, and Tobirama flinches before him.

He stops, swallows and breathes deeply. Then, more softly, “Otouto, I _know_...”

Tobirama whirls around. “Nothing,” he growls, his red eyes almost glaring, his voice almost trembling in its conviction. “He did nothing to me. And you have not yet told me his fate.”

Firm, resolute, brooking no disagreement. Just like it always is when he's hurt and upset and can't move on and still thinking about everyone else.

Hashirama wants to hit something, he _itches_ to hit something, but there's nothing to hit right here and he remembers the flinch and...

Calm. Perspective. Presence of mind.

Tobirama clearly needs his space right now, and as much as Hashirama doesn't want to leave him alone, _he's_ not the one hurt by that monster. He's not the one that suffered.

 _For Tobirama_ , he tells himself.

“M-Mito has him sealed and is questioning him,” he admits quietly, his voice tightly controlled. “You don't need to fear him or worry about us. Tobirama...”

“Then we best find a way back to our world and move on, now that the purpose that Mito brought us here for is fulfilled.”

And with that, Hashirama's brother abruptly turns away again, tugging on the ripped silk and wrapping it around his body as he moves towards the door, leaving Hashirama to stand staring at him, his hands clenched into impotent white-knuckled fists at his side. 

He's noticed.

How can he not?

His beloved little brother never once called him 'Anija.'


	33. Incest: It Will All Be...

**It Will All Be...**  
  
  
There's only one thought running through his mind. Only one.

Izuna. Check up on Izuna. Confirm the story.

The seals have been ripped off of him, he's able to move around and ignore (Hashirama? His brother?) as best as he can, and it all points to Hashirama's words being true, that he really is Tobirama's brother and not the...the version that lives in this world.

But...

He senses Hashirama following behind him, feels the heat of his body even with the gap between them and—

_Hot, too hot hands crawling up his back, cupping between his thighs. The burning stretch as a finger, then two, then three spread him, the sap Hashirama secreted so strangely warm and not at all like cold oil._

—his hands clench where they are by his side. He can't think about that right now. He mustn't think about that right now.

Izuna. Yes, that's it. He must focus on Izuna.

(Ignore the crawling sensation along his spine, the instincts screaming at him to never turn his back on Hashirama, the urge to run far, far away and throw himself off the nearest cliff. Ignore it, ignore it, _ignore it_.)

A concerned voice behind him.

“Tobirama...”

He senses the hand reaching for him and spins around, glaring at the shattered look on Hashirama's face. “Stay your distance,” he barks. “Until I have my proof, do not approach me. If you really are my brother...you'll stay your distance.”

Hashirama's eyes—wounded grassy chocolate—widen before he audibly swallows. “I understand. I won't come near you until you see for yourself that I spoke true. I'll _prove_ to you that I'm your Anija.”

Anija.

Tobirama stiffens and—

_“What is the matter, Otouto? Are you happy to have your Anija inside of you? We're so close like this, you and I, and you feel sooo good around me. So perfect. My perfect little brother. My perfect Otouto who loves and obeys his Anija.”_

The bile rises in his throat and Tobirama flinches away, drawing even further back from the man before him.

Izuna, he reminds himself. He must look for Izuna. _Focus_ on Izuna. Look for Izuna, confirm he's alright, that he's really with Madara and that Mito is really interrogating this world's Hashirama. And then he can relax. Then everything will be okay.

Then everything will go back to the way it was, with the scraps of attention he and anyone else not named Madara can get from his brother. He'll go back home, he and Hashirama both, and they can put this entire episode behind them.

Yes, that's what will happen.

All he needs to do is to confirm it...

He turns and walks towards the cell where Izuna was kept, where he knows Hashirama kept him. If...if this Hashirama spoke truly, and Madara is in there with him, if Izuna is being cared for, then...

His steps speed into a job and then a run, and then he's haring down the hallway.

He must confirm it.

With his own two eyes, he must confirm it.

If Izuna...

From behind him, he can hear the pitter-patter of Hashirama's footsteps, the man easily following his pace (but maintaining a respectful distance between them). He tries to calm the thump-thump-thump of his quickly beating heart, the way he wants to crawl out of his skin.

Hashirama hasn't done anything yet. He's even keeping the distance between them.

And that's good.

That's _Good_.

Tobirama's heart does not calm, and he's starting to feel dizzy from the increased bloodflow, the adrenaline pumping through him.

He just needs to see. Just that and then everything can go back to the way it was, and he'll put it from his mind. It won't ever have happened.

He's fast nearing the cell door. His hand reaches out, almost touching it and—

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

Right at the door, he suddenly stills, halting before it for one, endless moment.

His heart is beating wildly, almost leaping out of his chest with each loud thump, and his breath comes so quickly he almost feels that he is suffocating.

Izuna.

He has to confirm—

Izuna.

With a sudden flash of courage, he forces open the door, sliding it away and...

Madara carefully cleaning the dried blood from Izuna's skin. Izuna glaring sullenly at the wall. Both of them starting at his sudden appearance, their jaws slack with shock.

_He spoke the truth. He didn't lie. He really is my brother._

He's confirmed it then. It'll all be okay now. All okay.

...so why isn't his breath slowing? Why does it still feel like he's drowning? Why does the urge to run off a cliff only grow and grow and grow?


	34. Incest: Conflicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So...how many of you want to kill Madara?

**Conflicted**  
  
  
He watches, wide-eyed, as Senju Tobirama (a man he's seen alive only that brief time when Mito's seals pulled him and the other Hashirama through to this world) bursts into the cell where he's caring for Izuna, stares at them with eyes so large, Madara could swear he sees the whites and then... And then just stops.

Just, halts suddenly, there in the doorway, staring at the two of them as if he's seeing ghosts, shaking as if he's in a piece of parchment caught in a strong gale, blown to and fro.

Madara thinks he must be imagining things. Senju Tobirama had always seemed like a rock on the battlefield, a terror against which anyone, but Madara and Izuna worry about, the stalwart soldier to his older brother's dreamer. And only Madara could afford to take him on without too much preparation. Even Izuna, as strong as he is, had to spend a lot of time reviewing the Senju's strengths and spend countless hours searching for a weakness, no matter how small.

Who would have thought the weakness would be the man's own elder brother? Who could have known that he wouldn't take a kill strike when the opportunity presented itself and instead ended up being struck down by Izuna? When Madara thinks about it, even now, he can hardly believe it happened, hardly believe that their Senju Tobirama is dead, by Izuna's hand, because of Hashirama's actions.

And when he remembers that, he understands, just for a brief moment, why their Hashirama is so mad, why he took such drastic steps. No matter how much he has come to despise the man, he understands him best of all, understands the madness that overcame him when, not only did the man's last brother die, but he died because of Hashirama's own actions.

(What a bitter pill that is, what a reason for madness, if there can be any reason for madness.)

Their Hashirama may as well have Izuna's blade that day. Their Hashirama _did_ hold back Tobirama's (something that Madara is endlessly grateful for even as he despises the betrayal of blood and family and kin and clan that it is) and, in so doing, shattered that stalwart rock.

This Senju Tobirama, though, the man who is still in the doorway, eyes almost blown with fear, is shattered in a different way.

Never has Madara thought of the man as vulnerable. Not even as he fell on that battlefield all those many months ago. But now...

He infuses his chakra a little and almost flinches at the tsunami of emotions he feels from the man, at the rabbit-like _thump-thump-thump_ he can almost _hear_ , even across the room as he is.

Senju Tobirama...terrified? Senju Tobirama...in near full-blown panic?

It's an extraordinary (and deeply unsettling) thing to witness.

Madara doesn't like him. He remembers all those years he spent fearing that his little brother, that his precious Izuna, would end his life on the Senju's blade. He remembers helping Izuna do his best to guard their clansmen from the lethal Senju second-in-command, even as he distracts the attention of the almost-too-powerful to think about Hashirama. And always, _always_ in his mind is the knowledge that the next battle could be Izuna's last, that all he held dear could be lost so easily, and that it likely _will_ be lost so easily.

(If Hashirama hadn't asked...if Tobirama hadn't obeyed...)

But then their Tobirama died, a new one was dragged into their conflict, loyalties and allies changed, Izuna was captured and...

He swallows.

Izuna was wary of the captive Tobirama at first, but willing to work with him if needed. And then the tone of the letters changed. Even encoded, encrypted as they were, Madara could read a developing fondness, a trust where there had only been the respect of a feared enemy before. An appreciation and a worry for the other man, where once Izuna would have gladly (and did) cut him down.

Madara's not sure how to feel.

How should he feel towards a once enemy that, intellectually, he _knows_ he owes much to and has helped them achieve what they have (and led to their victory over the tyrant Hashirama), but his Uchiha heart _still_ can't quite trust? He's spent over 10 years been wary of the man. A solid five of those also fearing his prowess on Izuna and his clansmen's behalf. And the last three hating him for his warmongering ways.

He _knows_ he's wrong. He _knows_ that this isn't that Tobirama, and that even there, he's likely misjudged that Tobirama anyways because, otherwise, why would their Tobirama be _dead_? He knows that this Tobirama sacrificed much for a safer world that's not even his own and that they owe _everything_ to him.

And he has eyes. The finest, Sharingan eyes. Eyes that sees the rips in the yukata, the way shaking fingers clench the tattered remnants of the tie shut, the bruises peeking out from the rips around hips and thighs. He recognizes those, and he just wants to march right over to where Mito has their Hashirama and tear the man's heart out for his trespass, for a betrayal that, somehow, even surpassed his first one.

He's an Uchiha. Nothing is more sacred, more important than family and clan.

Raping the man with his little brother's face? Abusing someone he had gone mad over?

Death is far too kind.

...or did the madness cause this? Was Hashirama's madness so dark and deep that he would commit even this depravity?

He bites his lip, briefly considering it, but shrugs the contemplations off a second later. He doesn't know and, honestly, he doesn't care. More important right now is the situation with the other world's Tobirama and Hashirama. And Izuna's attachment to Tobirama.

Before Madara's eyes, Tobirama's shaking gets the better of him, and the man crumples, falling neatly into the arms of his brother suddenly materializing behind him. At the motion, Izuna begins to struggle in an attempt to get to Tobirama.

And therein lies the crux of the situation.

Madara hasn't come to know Tobirama at all, besides seeing him as Izuna's potential peril for more than a decade and, recently, as an abstract notion of “ally” and “supplier of Izuna's information.” But Madara's little brother, who is still trying to squirm out of his arms, with the same wounded look in his little brother's eyes when he spots an Uchiha child in need of help and with the same tenderness and protective fury when he cares for a hurt little bird, clearly has become attached.

More than attached.

It's dangerous, to become attached to someone who must return to his own world. It's dangerous, to become attached to someone who won't be emotionally whole for a very long time. It's dangerous, to become attached to someone they spent most of their lives hating as an enemy.

And Madara...

Madara is grateful to the man. He pities what Tobirama evidently suffered and wishes him well even as his muscles tighten uncomfortably in his presence.

But Izuna's his little brother, his heart and reason to live itself. He doesn't want Izuna hurt, even the hurt of a broken heart.

It's callous and very unfair to the man he owes so much to (and he really, really wishes he didn't feel this way), but he's an Uchiha. Family and clan will always come first. And so he can only hope that Tobirama heals quickly from what he's endured and goes back to his home before Izuna can fall for him.

Let him leave their life. Let him get better (because Madara isn't evil), and let him begone.

That would be best for everyone.


	35. Incest: Sisyphus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back to non-incest after this since the next portion of incest will be Part III.

**Sisyphus**  
  
  
Izuna screams at him as he catches his little brother. Izuna screams, and Madara has to hold him back, and he would be so warmed if this happened in his own world, so hopeful for the future, for the peace that he loves, for what it would mean that Izuna feels this amount of affection for his otouto, and this dreams _are_ possible after all...

But it isn't his own world.

It's a world that he was forced into unwillingly, a world in which his beloved brother was forced along with him. A world that saw his Otouto stolen from him for months. Held for months and held in despicable, terrible bondage by a man that should have known better, should have been _better_ damnit!

His hands tremble around Tobira.

(He should have been better. He should have been.)

It's a different world where the Tobirama here died and everything turned upside down. Where he committed atrocities that twist his insides to even think about and where all his loved ones held a heavy burden for months on end. And it's a world that abused his own little brother. That took Tobirama from him and forced him to endure the attentions of a madman. Forced him until he's collapsed like this, broken down from the strain and the...

He takes a deep breath, clutching his Otouto close to him, burying his face in Tobira's hair.

(Why wasn't he better? Why was he so wrong, like a seed that died before it could germinate, like a plant with roots in the air and green underneath the soil?)

Izuna's affection? His concern for his Tobira? He cannot be glad of it. It all stems from his brother's pain, his brother's suffering. It's something he would give anything to wipe away. And this world already has its peace, has already won it. The moment the insane Hashirama dropped in defeat is the moment the people in this world has earned their bright future.

(And is he really any different? They're the same person, he and the man with his face, with only the difference of Tobira between them, the difference of losing Tobira. Is he truly second in his regard for his little brother in comparison to _Uchiha Izuna_?)

He stays there for a moment, ignoring the Izuna still screaming obscenities at him, ignoring the Madara struggling with his own brother.

He needs to get Tobirama help. He needs to get his Otouto healing and care and _something_ so that he gets better. So that they can go home, and things can go back the way they were, except he'd be a good brother this time...

His breath catches in his throat, more a sob than anything else.

A good brother.

What does it mean to be a good brother?

He had thought he was a good brother, before all of this. And then he had looked at the Madara here and thought he knew what a good brother was. But now he looks and sees Izuna fighting with Madara to get to Tobira and...

He doesn't know.

He shakes.

He doesn't know what it is, what it means.

What if he can't? His Otouto had collapsed. Before that, Hashirama had _seen_ him, had felt how he was about to fly apart, held together only by uncertain seams. What if he can't be a good brother? What if he fails his little brother again?

His and his brother's are looking more and more in doubt every moment. With what this Hashirama did to Tobira, with what's happened here...how can they move on from this? How can he go back to his own world, to their own problems and goals with _this_ between them?!

What will happen to Tobirama if they fail, if they _can't_ move on?

He releases his breath, the air shuddering in his throat.

He stands and sweeps Tobira up into his arms.

Healing. Wisdom. Advice.

He's good with the physical, but with what's happened...

Mito.

Mito will know what to do.

She's not _his_ Mito, but they've a comradery from working together, and she owes him. She _owes_ him for pulling him through and unleashing his brother's torments in the first place. She owes him for helping to save their world.

She owes him for what's Tobirama's been made to suffer, because hers was the seal that brought them to this wretched world in the first place.

(And he doesn't know what else to do.)


	36. Non-Incest: Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows after chapter 14, the non-incest route.

**Resolve**  
  
  
He's tense for days after that.

Reasonable? What can reasonable mean? What _does_ reasonable mean when a man who has his brother's face wants to take that brother's place? When a man who should know better is trying to replace his Anija in his heart?

It cannot work. It won't work.

Tobirama is not fickle. His loyalty, once earned, is earned forever. And his Anija shall forever have his loyalty.

That this man, this _imposter_ seeks to supplant his Anija is intolerable, and a heavy insult. Tobirama will not yield. Not for all the freshly grilled fish, the rare books, the hitherto unknown knowledge dangled right outside of his reach.

He pushes the saba shioyaki away (his favorite, Hashirama is clearly trying very hard). “I will not be bought with food,” he says with a stiff, watching the far wall placidly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hashirama droop in disappointment before perking right back up again. The man clearly has the same endless optimism that his own Anija has and despite himself, his heart softens towards him just a bit.

When was the last time he saw that optimism? Since before the last battle. Hashirama had been so disappointed that Madara hadn't read or opened any of his letters, had sent them all back torn into pieces. And then after the battle, he'd been so miserable, so furiously miserable that, that...

He won't regret it. He knows, even if Anija refuses to see, that it would have been Izuna's life or his own. And he is not daft enough to choose the outcome that would doom his clan. And he's proven right, isn't he? He's drawn this Hashirama into conversation enough to know now that this world that he's in now, this foreign world that is so similar to his own and yet so different, _this world came about because this Tobirama made the wrong choice._

He doesn't understand it. Not really. How can his counterpart allow their clan to be put into such jeopardy? How can he allow himself to be taken down? He endangered his brother, Touka, his clan and every single person he cares about. All for...a momentary feeling of pity?

Just what was it that stayed the hand of the Tobirama of this world such that he was actually _killed_?

And look what it wrought! Madness in Hashirama! Madness such that brilliant Mito was forced from his side! Madness such that Touka left him!

He eyes the mad Hashirama, the man prying out a treatise about—he glances at it quickly and his breath catches in his throat.

Seals. Nature and water seal manipulation. A theory he hadn't yet come across! If he could just study it...

His hand stretches out towards the aged parchment, but just before he touches it, he freezes, remembering that the gift isn't without conditions.

Hashirama may not voice those conditios, but they exist nonetheless.

Replacing his brother. Worming his way into Tobirama's heart and confidence. Trying to turn him turncoat and a traitor to all he holds dear.

He won't do it. He won't.

With resolve, he pushes away the bundle of sheafs, ignores Hashirama's crestfallen face and resolutely stares at the window.

He still sees the man out of the corner of his eye, his face momentarily crumpled in defeat before new determination enters him, and he cannot help but admire the way a smile (somewhat strained, understandably so) creeps onto his face, and he pushes himself to his feet.

An inexaustible strength. A relentless drive. Things he had always known Hashirama would have, because doesn't his own Anija have the same?

Only, it's always been focused on Madara before. Madara and the peace and ending the war. To have it focused on him is...

He shivers.

It's flattering. It's frightening.

(And, oh, how a part of him yearns to give him. He can't admit it, not even to himself, but to have that kind of relationship with his Anija again, to have Anija's love, to have Anija ask him for his opinions, listen to him, gift him with the books he cherished...)

But he won't give in.


	37. Non-Incest: Planning

**Planning**  
  
  
The idea comes to him a few days later, as Hashirama is pushing ever more of Tobirama's favorite activities onto him, trying to feed him even more of his favorite foods. It whizzes into his mind, like a bee suddenly roused by an intruder and buzzes around in his head despite the uncomfortable twisting in his chest.

_Use it. He claims affection...then use it._

Hashirama is clearly desperate for Tobirama to grow closer to him. He is so very wrong and deluded in his campaign to replace Tobirama's Anija, and yet the desire to do so is so very naked in his eyes. He's tried relentlessly, bringing a seemingly endless supply of rare books, Tobirama's favorite food, attempting to draw Tobirama into conversation about chakra theory (and Tobirama is unwillingly impressed that he's learned as much as he has). And through it all, he has become more and more...unbalanced.

Yes.

Tobirama watches as Hashirama's smile strains even further when he takes no more than the necessary perfunctory bites of the fish to keep alive and then pushes it away, as he has pushed away all other attempts by the man to entice him.

Unbalanced is certainly the right word.

And Tobirama can use this. Use this desire, feed into Hashirama's need to win him over. It wouldn't even be hard. Hashirama is so clearly desperate to replace his dead brother, to alleviate his own sadness. All Tobirama would need to do is to give in a little. Feed him crumbs. Get him to give Tobirama more freedom, allow him movement, the ability to leave this room, _to visit Izuna_...

Maybe even allow Tobirama knowledge about his movements to rebuild the village.

With that kind of information, if he had access to Izuna, and with Izuna's weekly letters to Mito and Anija (and Madara), then they could _win_. Tobirama would be able to escape, bring Izuna with him, get back to his Anija and find out from Mito exactly what is going on.

(The truth, not the half-truths and delusions that Hashirama is so clearly living on top of.)

The fish in Tobirama's mouth suddenly tastes like sandpaper.

It would require him to betray Anija, even if only a little. It would require him to...to begin to treat Hashirama like he were Anija. It would require him to give in and be _pleased_ at Hashirama's efforts...

The idea is distasteful to him.

He's not sure why.

This kind of pretense, shinobi no mono do it all the time. Pretending to love. Pretending emotions. Utilizing something dear to gain something necessary and leveraging every advantage at one's disposal. It's what a shinobi no mono _does_. It's what being a ninja is all about. And of all the pretenses he's ever put on, this would probably the easiest.

All he needs to do is to imagine Anija.

Hardly a difficult task, since Hashirama _is_ Anija's counterpart.

(But...but Anija...It would be a betrayal of Anija...)

And it could even be beneficial to all involved. If he gets free...if he saves Izuna...if he gets to the bottom of this and finds that Hashirama is truly insane, then could help heal the man. Get him the help that he needs (because he's the counterpart of his Anija and _surely_ there must be a way to bring him back from his loss-driven madness?). Or if Mito is truly a prisoner, then he could team up with Anija and free her, and surely Hashirama would be much better once Mito is there helping him.

(It'd be using Anija. It'd be manipulating his deepest loyalty, his deepest love...)

And at the very least, it would save Izuna. With the growing impatience in Hashirama's eyes, with his increasing desperation, Tobirama is quite afraid that he'll snap. Snap and do something regrettable. And while he likely won't take it out on Tobirama, Izuna has no such protection.

It is one point of difference between his own world and this one. He can't imagine his Anija hating Izuna quite so much.

(There are so many reasons to do this, but...)

He must remember. He is shinobi no mono.

He must be prepared to do anything to achieve his goal. No matter how distasteful he finds it.


	38. Non-Incest: Pretense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No further updates until Thursday, when I return from my trip.

**Pretense**  
  
  
Despite what everyone has said about him over the years, despite his father's constant deprecations, his old friend Madara's (and current betrayer) snide remarks, the Elders' sighs over him, he is not stupid. He is not naive or ignorant or innocent.

He is shinobi no mono, with all that entails, with a ninja's common sense and a ninja's understanding of all the ways a person can be taken in and betrayed.

And yet...and yet...

He knows.

He knows that Tobirama allowing him to feed him his favorite foods, that his Tobira actually accepting the scrolls he's left by his bedside when he's been rejecting everything for weeks is artificial. That his beloved little brother thinks to pull the wool over his eyes and use his affection, his brotherly _love_ for him against him.

Oh, there is nothing so gauche as _evidence._ Indeed, the _lack_ of any discernible change in behavior, the very _slowness_ of it all, is proof in and of itself.

Tobirama is a shinobi no mono, of course, and one of the best at that. Less blunt power than Hashirama, but always more quick-witted, better at subterfuge, better at training his emotions and locking away his heart (ahh...but underneath all that is a heart so warm and loving and giving that the world does not deserve it). The consummate warrior. An excellent spy. A most superb strategist and tactician.

So, _of course_ he would seek to use this and of course he would leave no trail of it, no obvious moment that Hashirama can point back to and say, “aha! That's the moment.”

He should care.

He should care very much.

He's wanted his Tobirama back with him for so many moons now. So many moons of, of...

(His mind shies away, hurriedly moving on to other memories.)

And when Tobirama was awake and back with him again, he was so cold, rejecting all of Hashirama's attempts to offer forgiveness to his little brother and beg for a second chance, a chance to be the brother he should have been from the start.

His hand curls into a fist on his thigh.

He should never have...should never have...

But then his fist softens, subconsciously smoothing back the linen of his hakama.

He doesn't care, does he?

No. Not at all.

He doesn't care that Tobirama is most likely using him, is trying to manipulate his affection, his guilt, his remorse so that he can run back to the imposter.

He should care, but he doesn't at all because...because even this...even this pretense is better than nothing.

Having Tobira-chan pretend, having Tobira-chan read the books he gives him and begin to truly chat with him again is worth _everything_. Even if it's fake. Even if it hurts to know that Otouto doesn't truly trust him, that his mind is still so muddled and confused as to want to run to the enemy.

_There is nothing I won't do for Otouto. Nothing I won't allow him. If he wants to go this route, if he wants to be the ninja and not the brother, then I will accept it. I will accept him._

Because, at the end of the day, Hashirama has already lost his brother once. He lost his brother once, and it was enough to end his entire world, make meaningless the dreams he had once held and upturn every single wish, every single priority he'd ever had.

He can't lose him again. Not now that he's finally gotten him back. He can't. He won't.

And maybe...and maybe the pretense will be enough. Enough pretense, enough time going through the motions, and it becomes real. Once Tobira-chan sees his sincerity, truly understands that Hashirama loves and needs him...

He'll have his Otouto back.


	39. Non-Incest: Ill Tidings

**Ill Tidings**  
  
  
Izuna is suspicious when Hashirama marches into his cell. His suspicion grows tenfold when Tobirama follows behind. He grows beyond incredulous when Hashirama steps just outside, close enough to stop Izuna and Tobirama if they try to escape, but far enough to give them the semblance of privacy.

...Just what is going on?

From what he had seen of Hashirama, he cannot believe the man would allow his “little brother” any freedom of movement, any possibility of escape. And certainly not any contact with Izuna given that they had been recaptured together trying to escape.

What is Hashirama playing at?

“What are you doing here? Tobirama, what is happening?”

The man sighs and steps forward, scrutinizing Izuna's wrists closely. “You'll need those checked and looked at. I'm not the healer than my brother is, but even I can tell when wrists are chafed raw by iron.” And, to Izuna's alarm, the Senju turns to glare at the taller man behind him.

“If _someone_ had used padded shackles...”

Oh, kami-sama. If Hashirama takes offense, if his temper blows up like any one of those times Izuna had seen before they'd fled...

_Small things upset him. Small things like Izuna reminiscing on chakra theory or practicing kenjutsu. Or that one time he tried a Suiton jutsu. Small things would cause that ever present anger simmering below the surface to erupt, for Hashirama to turn towards him with a snarl. He was convinced that it would be his last time breathing, last time feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin, but Madara, ever present, ever there, would steer Hashirama away, distract him until Izuna can make his getaway._

But the expression on Hashirama's face is placid, even through Tobirama's rebuke, and he merely shrugs. “He's an enemy.”

Those disturbing mossy eyes turn to regard him, but it is different from every other time. The simmering fury is banked, and those orbs gaze upon him as if he's nothing more than some nuisance their owner does not care enough to heed.

“That is beneath you...Anija. We must always treat our enemies with respect. Not to the extent of being foolish enough to give them an advantage over us, but—”

“Enough to give them the dignity they deserve and not push them to desperate straits. Yes, yes, Otouto, I know. You've said so many times. It was the one thing father wasn't pleased with you about.” There's a smile on Hashirama's face as his eyes sway to Tobirama, the hazel softening with affection as he looks to him. Tobirama looks back, a small answering smile on his own lips.

Izuna feels alarm racing up his spine. That level of familiarity. That level of ease.

_B-but Tobirama is from another world. He isn't Hashirama's brother. Hashirama's brother is dead._

Except. Except Hashirama steps forward, a proprietary hand wrapping around Tobirama's upper arm, squeezing it gently to get his attention. Except Tobirama turns to face him, his face lifted in open question, unflinching and unyielding. Not a hint of wariness or the reserve for which he was almost as famous as his Suiton and his genius and his sensor abilities.

He's acting like he really is Hashirama's little brother and Izuna's enemy. He's acting like he really is the Senju Tobirama of this world, like that dead man that Izuna regrets being forced to kill.

And that's terrifying. Madara and Mito, they need the Hashirama of the other world. They need to return his brother to him, lest they suffer _two_ mad crazy overpowered bastards. If Tobirama has really been brainwashed to believe he's Hashirama's brother, if Hashirama has plied his influence on the counterpart of Izuna's rival...

This can't be good.


	40. Non-Incest: Proof in the Pudding

**Proof in the Pudding**  
  
  
It's tricky, balancing the act. He's not sure whether or not Hashirama believes it, but he's certainly _acting_ like he does. All attempts to convince him has disappeared, and while Hashirama is still attentive, still watchful over his every move, he's not as pushy as he was before. Not as forceful about it.

“I don't much trust him, Otouto, but I will let you have this time you requested with him.”

Tobirama bows his head in acceptance, but before the man can leave, he places one hand on his arm and gestures to Izuna's raw wrists with the other. A small injury like that is normally not a concern, but given how long Izuna has been in here, and given their state, Tobirama is frankly worried that they're either infected or will soon become infected. In fact, he's quite surprised they haven't already been infected for a while now.

Izuna must have an amazing immune system. That, or Hashirama has seen to them before.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” he prods, both earnestly willing Hashirama to heal Izuna's wrists but also testing how much Hashirama will let him get away with now that he's being cooperative.

It's already a lot. It's already more than Tobirama could conceive. He's been allowed out of that stuffy room—Hashirama says that it's his, but it's _not_ , it's his counterpart's—for the first time in weeks, he's been allowed to visit Izuna (escorted by Hashirama, but that's only to be expected) and he's even being allowed to speak with Izuna _somewhat_ privately.

He's not an idiot of course. He knows Hashirama will be listening in. But the fact that the man will allow even this semblance...

A far cry from even the day before.

Hashirama frowns, but he moves forward, resting a hand on Izuna's wrist as he wordlessly and seallessly performs iryo-ninjutsu on the raw patches, knitting up the skin like new and leaving not a single blemish.

Impressive. But the real test is, “Anija, don't you think you should pad the shackles so that he doesn't hurt himself again? It's so easy for him to rub his wrists raw against the bare metal. Surely, you should add a protective layer? And I think we can add a few creature comforts for him. Some books, perhaps, to stimulate his mind? And structured and carefully monitored times for him to be released from his bindings so that he may properly exercise his muscles?”

Hashirama's dislike of Izuna is plain (and so very different from Tobirama's Anija). Knowing the history that he nows does, it's not hard to understand why. If he had lost his last remaining brother, if he had lost Hashirama...Tobirama thinks his vengeance would be terrible. Terrible and all-encompassing and something he could never condone as he is right now. And while Anija is mad at him for striking down his own Izuna (how strange this world is—everything is topsy-turvy!), Tobirama doesn't think he would want him to die for it. This Hashirama is clearly no different, having been driven down such a dark path from losing his last brother.

(How strange it is to know that. To know that the loss of _him_ may drive his brother down such a path. That the loss of his counterpart _did_ drive a Hashirama down this path. It's riveting to think about, to know that he has some importance to his brother, that he's not _so_ disregarded as he had once thought.)

And so, if Hashirama agrees to do this. If Hashirama agrees to make things more comfortable for Izuna...

“You ask for much, Otouto.”

Ah. A shame. He had hoped...

“But let it not be said that I would refuse my dearest little brother something so trivial. Not if it makes him happy. Alright.” Hashirama turns to Izuna. “For a single day every week, you will be let down to exercise under my supervision. And I will see to it that you get some books in here as well. As for padding, I believe cotton would be the best. Are you agreed?”

Izuna, eyes wide, nods frantically, and Tobirama has to fight to keep a victorious grin off his face.

This is promising. This is promising indeed.


	41. Non-Incest: His Burden

**His Burden**  
  
  
It's a small thing to heal Izuna.

He doesn't want to. That little brat is the reason his Otouto was injured in the first place, the very reason he nearly lost Tobirama. But he sees the concern in Tobirama's eyes as he looks towards Izuna's raw wrists (his brother thinks he's good at hiding his emotions, but he'll never be able to hide from Hashirama), and his irritation melts away.

For Tobirama's ease of mind, for Tobirama's sake, as long as it does not endanger them, as long as it does not further his brother's delusion, he will oblige.

The other requests are a bit more difficult to stomach.

Books? For that parasitic mite? Time to exercise?

He grinds his teeth.

After what Izuna nearly did...after all the trouble he's caused, all the heartache...

It galls him. Giving Izuna any small comfort absolutely tears at him.

Izuna is the reason Madara refused to see reason even after his father died. Izuna is the reason Madara's betrayed him in the end. Izuna is the _reason that Tobirama got hurt!_

He nearly took Tobirama from him. He nearly took away Hashirama's last brother. He _did_ take away Tobirama, unless Tobirama genuinely starts to remember.

(Let him remember. Let him return to himself and look up at Hashirama and call him Anija, earnestly, lovingly, confidently.)

He wants to rage at Izuna. He wants to rage and scream because here is the cause of so many of his losses. Here is the reason he has so few precious people left.

(Less than he thinks.)

But.

But he's also beholden to the man as well. If it weren't for Izuna's actions, if Izuna hadn't wounded Tobirama so terribly (and isn't it strange that he can't really remember that moment, as if he's blocked it out completely?), then Hashirama would still be the awful brother he had been. Izuna had opened his eyes with his heinous act, and Hashirama must be (grudgingly) thankful for that.

He'll make up for lost time. He'll treat his Tobira-chan well and remind him that he _really is his brother_. He'll be the person he ought to have been from the very start.

And if that means being...cordial...with the pesky little aphid, then he'll be just that.

A bare minimum of politeness.

Even if it means digging up such precious resources better served being in his beloved brother's hands than Izuna's.

 _Cordial_ , he reminds himself. Because Tobirama asked it of him.

Right.

He can do that.

And when he does... “Join me, Tobira-chan?”

His brother looks at him, his head cocked in question.

Hashirama smiles brightly at him. “You haven't enjoyed my meals in a while. I thought we'd make one together, just like we used to. You and me. In the kitchen.”

He sees Tobirama open his mouth to refuse before suddenly hesitating. A curious look crosses his face as he considers. “I would like that.”

It's not what Hashirama would hope for. He wants eagerness, full unfettered acceptance, genuine anticipation.

...But he'll take it.

It's better than nothing. It's better than his brother rebuffing his every attempt, rejecting his every attempt to reforge an attachment. It's better than being met with an unsurpassable stone wall.

He can work with this. He can slowly convince Tobirama. He can show his brother that he is genuine in his affection, and that he is truly the man's only elder brother and not that impostor that seeks to usurp his place in Tobirama's life.

_Come back to me, Otouto. Come back to me, and take your place by my side. I will protect you so that I never need fear losing you again. I will keep you safe._


	42. Non-Incest: The Frog

**The Frog**  
  
  
There's a popular saying that a frog in a well does not know the great sea. It had seemed obvious, as most such sayings do until Hashirama is in the unique unenviable position of understanding it more intimately. He had thought it was only in relation to general ignorance and small-mindness, of a person only knowing what they were used to and not being able to conceive of the unknown, but instead...

“We'll get them both back, Hashirama,” Madara ventures. “Your brother and mine. Both safe and sound by our sides. We'll put our insane Hashirama down, and we'll save them.”

Hashirama can do nothing but nod sadly. He wants to believe it. He wants to believe in it. He must believe in it, because...

Because he doesn't want to be that frog. He doesn't want to be the frog living in his own bliss, ignorant of how precious the relations he had are, how important the people in his life are to him. He doesn't want to be that naive dreamer, thinking only of what he could have had instead of realizing that he's on the verge of losing the rock he leans on.

Tobirama is that rock. Solid. Dependable. Brilliant. Completely loyal.

And those relationships that Hashirama had taken for granted, those are the great sea that he hadn't truly known until now, when another version of him holds his brother captive.

Izuna wrote back. Small things. Unimportant things. That is the veneer he uses to hide his true meaning. And his true meaning is troubling.

His counterpart dotes on his brother. His counterpart hunted down books that Tobirama had been looking for for ages. His counterpart takes care to remember every single little thing that would please Tobirama and gave it to him. His counterpart puts Tobirama above all his other concerns.

It's this last that worries Hashirama. The other details are just _things_. Tobirama would appreciate them. He wouldn't be swayed by them. But genuine affection?

Izuna says that Tobirama has now been allowed more freedom. Izuna says that even he himself, by Tobirama's request, has been allowed more freedom, and that he is amazed at Tobirama's ingenuity and gratified with Hashirama's brother's regard for him.

The thought is like vinegar in his belly, sour and heavy.

His counterpart is trying to sway his Otouto from his side. Izuna is even coming to appreciate Tobirama, despite knowing him for so short a time. And with all this...

Where does Hashirama stack?

He knows Tobirama is loyal. He _knows_ his brother is loyal and trustworthy and very, very loving when it comes to him.

But...

But...

But Tobirama was hurt, during that last battle, and he was dragged into this world with his injuries barely treated. But Tobirama hadn't even spoken with him for several hours before they were pulled over...because Hashirama was upset that he struck down Izuna.

He feels nauseated, thinking about that now. Knowing with absolute certainty that, had Tobirama held back, he'd be dead, and Hashirama would become the madman that shares his name here...And even that is poor and unworthy of him. Why does it take him knowing the actual future for it to be okay that Tobirama did what he did? Tobirama is his Otouto. Even the slightest chance of danger should have prompted more thought for his circumstance, more understanding from Hashirama.

He knows he is a bad brother, but each letter from Izuna reveals to him just how much further he has fallen.

He hadn't thought to bring Tobirama his favorite foods in many years now. He hadn't once thought about dedicating resources to finding those books that Tobirama had dreamed about. And if it were just those two, it'd be okay, because Tobirama himself would call them frivolous. But it's not because...

Because...

Because he had been so blinded by possibilities of the future, by Madara and alliance and peace, that he completely neglected what he already had. And Tobirama was injured, was forced to make an impossible choice, chose the _right_ option, and Hashirama had been angered by it.

The knowledge is a gnawing emptiness inside of him, reverberating in a rotten and hollow tree trunk.

When had Madara and dreams of peace and safety for little brothers become more important than those little brothers themselves?


	43. Non-Incest: Play Along

**Play Along**  
  
  
“You should stop vexing him. If you keep pushing at him, he'll hurt you, and that would benefit no one.”

Izuna stiffens, about to demand to know exactly _what_ that bastard had done to Tobirama to turn him into _this_ when he feels the man's hands on his own...signing. His eyes dart quickly to Hashirama, still standing a little aways, carefully looking away so as to give them the semblance of privacy, and he immediately understands.

Clever, clever Tobirama.

He's playing Hashirama. He must be. Because why else would he be so careful to keep their conversation circumspect in the only way possible at this moment. Unfortunately, Izuna's ability to understand and sign back is...crude. Enough to the gist of things, but not more than that.

It will have to suffice.

 _He truly believes I am his brother. I have— **unintelligible** —to play along so as to make it easier to help— **unintelligible** —and pass along— **unintelligible.**_ (information perhaps? Izuna most certainly hopes it's nothing physical or traceable) _Play along. Act **—unintelligible** —and allay his fears. I know he does not yet quite trust me, but if I can gain his trust, then_

The signs suddenly stop, and Izuna sees Hashirama turning towards them.

He sucks in a breath.

Amazing. He can still see the seals on Tobirama's skin, preventing him from utilizing his sensing skills. And yet he still somehow knew when it would be too dangerous to continue.

He feels a pang for what he's lost in this man. Truly a worthy rival for Izuna to pit his mind against. If only that last battle hadn't ended the way it had...if only there had been a way for both of them to walk away alive.

After this Tobirama returns to his own world, then Izuna won't have a rival here anymore. He won't have a Tobirama to fight against, a Tobirama perfectly matched to him. He'll have won, but not in any way that speaks to his own skills or finally coming on top of his rival. He'll have won only because the mad walking tree known as Hashirama ordered his own brother's death.

And speaking of the walking tree, here he comes now.

Time to act.

Tobirama wants him to play along? He'll play along.

“Have you joined him?! After all that he's done? How can you ask me to give in? I am no coward, that I fear for my own comfort so much that I give succor to my enemy!”

A quirk of those elegant red lips, before their owner shakes his head in seeming disappointment. “Reducing your animosity isn't giving in, Izuna. Anija is hurt by something, and he is likely to lash out at you if you push him too much during this difficult time. I know you. I know you are stubborn and will prod at things even if it's disadvantageous for you.”

Izuna glares at Hashirama—playing in character AND giving him the opportunity to size up the other man's reactions so far, the shinobi no mono way of slaying two foes with a single kunai—and he spits at him. “I do not care if it is disadvantageous. This scum hurt the people I care about. He nearly _killed_ Aniki...!”

And then he blinks, shocked at himself. He hadn't meant to let so much out. He hadn't meant to reveal so much of himself, had only meant to further this charade until they had what they needed, but... but the truth is, he's mad. He mad at Senju Hashirama for all the times he's almost stolen Izuna's brother away from him. From when they were children, and Madara was drifting further and further away from Izuna (because of _Hashirama_ ) to when the Senju forced the Uchiha to join his village...

He's always stealing from Izuna. Always threatening that which he holds dear.

And it makes him sick. Even to look at the man, it makes him sick.

That visage. That stinking, loathsome face that tries to steal everything Izuna cares about away from him, that seeks to corrupt everything he cares for. And now he's set his sights on Tobirama, a Tobirama that doesn't belong to him, a Tobirama that Izuna finds worthy.

Izuna won't have it.


	44. Non-Incest: A Half Step

**A Half Step**  
  
  
Is he winning him? Is he successfully scattering his trail of broken leaves, wiping away all traces of what he's trying to do? Or is he as obvious as a suddenly blinded Uchiha, flailing about because the tool they have an overreliance on is removed from them?

He hopes it is the former. He hopes that Hashirama buys this because--

“Do you like this, my dear Otouto?”

Hashirama's hands pull away from his eyes, and Tobirama gasps, his breath caught in his throat, wavering like some uncertain dandelion fluff, pushed to and fro by forces beyond its control. And he is, indeed, faced with forces that he's unable to resist. How could he? To be presented with this abundance of beauty, of brilliance and magnificence...

He steps forward and almost reverently runs his hands along the rolled up silks, the knotted chords binding them, the polished bamboo end. When he reaches the end of one, he leans close and breathes deeply, scenting the faint smell of earthy burned wood and the even lighter scent of grease.

Burnt wood and grease.

Soot and fat.

The key components of ink.

“There must be over two hundred scrolls here,” he murmurs instead.

A chuckle, and then Hashirama is settling his hand on Tobirama's shoulder. The touch is light, almost as if Hashirama is asking for permission, as if he doesn't think Tobirama will just allow him because they are brothers, and it's Tobirama's duty to submit and obey. “Three hundred, actually. It's not complete yet, especially since we must devote much of our resources to the fortifications in case the rebels come back, but I've been building it for a while. For you.”

That is expected. Expected and prepared for, and Tobirama _knows_ that Hashirama is only doing this to win him over, to make him believe in this ridiculous fantasy that he's built up and forsake his own, true brother, but he can still feel himself waver.

Just a little bit.

Like that little bit of fluff on the wind, he's still swayed by it (by his own inner desires to have this, to have this be real, to be regarded this way by his _own_ brother). And, despite him, he feels a bit more compassion for the mad man who has lost his mind.

What could have this man been like, if neither Tobirama nor Izuna fell that day on the battlefield? Not his brother nor this Hashirama, but perhaps something in-between? A more understanding man? Or perhaps still charging forward, his dream the only thing he sees before his eyes.

Hashirama moves in front of him and gently plucks one of the tightly rolled up scrolls, taking a brief glance at the writing on the side and handing it to Tobirama. “I think you would be most interested in this one at first. You were working on time-temporal jutsu, weren't you? This is from the libraries of Uzu.”

The libraries of Uzu. Uzushio. Uzumaki.

Mito.

“You said,” he starts hesitantly, ducking his face to avoid looking at Hashirama. “You said that Mito-san was forced from your side. Surely, since you hold Izuna, you can offer to let him go if they let Mito-san go? You must miss her so much, since she is your fiance.”

-~&~-

Does he?

He certainly appreciated the Uzumaki princess very much, especially when she stepped into her role as fiance and began helping to manage the affairs of the clan, but her actions after, her _betrayal_...

She is no different than Madara. Both of them were once precious to him. Both of them have plunged their kunais into his back, sought to wreck his peace, destroy his village, walk away from the dreams that they all once shared.

And his dreams were important to him. _Are_ important to him. What does he have left, but that dream, that determination to make peace a reality and make justified all the sacrifices it took to get there? What does he have left, but a cold, lonely dream, the one thing remaining after the colors of the world bled red, after Tobirama's injury.

He furrows his brow.

(But that makes no sense...he still had Tobirama. He still _has_ Tobirama. Tobirama was only injured then. Only injured...)

(So why does he feel like he has nothing left?)


	45. Non-Incest: Broken

**Broken**  
  
  
There are times that Hashirama would stop in the middle of a sentence, a look of utter devastation descending on his face and then slipping away before the man can even grasp it, like quicksilver over water. There are times when Hashirama would mention some small thing, reminisce about some long ago memory that Tobirama only half remembers—and isn't it mistifying that Hashirama has remembered so much, so many little details that Tobirama's long since put out from his mind—and he would freeze, trembling like a leaf in the breeze, so weak and helpless and _terrified_ that Tobirama almost goes to him, almost asks him, “Anija, what is wrong? What can I do?”

But he doesn't.

Because this isn't his Hashirama.

It's not.

It's not.

It's not, not, not, not, not!

These small memories that Hashirama's so fond of, they didn't happen with him, but with the man's own little brother. That time Tobirama was trying to figure out a more efficient way to water the plants that Hashirama grew and accidentally flooded the entire garden wasn't _him_ , but his dead counterpart. And the incident with the lemon tree was—

Hashirama seems to excited, so animated, when he speaks of the past. His hands fly little birds, fluttering about in the air, gesticulating wildly in an attempt to infuse his happiness into everything and everyone around him. It's one of the most endearing things about Tobirama's Anija, and on this Hashirama, on this man who has trapped him and is holding both he and Izuna prisoner, it is...

Pitiful.

He's a man living in the past, a past that can never come back again, and it's only in those brief moments of such pain and doubt that it hurts even _Tobirama_ to look at him that he can even begin to grasp it.

And Tobirama can't.

He can't.

He can't do this.

It's one thing to play upon a broken man holding him captive, holding Izuna captive, but this is a man with the face of his brother. This _would have been_ his brother if a single event had been different. To use him like this, when he is clearly suffering so much...

But he must. It's the only way to get free. The only way to ensure Izuna's safety, the only way to get back to Anija, the only way to connect with this world's Mito and help correct things.

It's not his responsibility. It's not his place, not his world, not his Anija.

But somehow, seeing Hashirama so very broken, his mind so clearly bent from loss...it hurts. It aches inside, deep in his chest in a way that he's never truly felt before. Even when he reported Hashirama's activities to father that first time, even after the battle where he struck his world's Izuna down, he hasn't felt anything like this. (But then again, Anija's never looked quite like that, like his entire world is gone.)

He was worried, at first, that he may slip too far in this role and forget himself. Forget that this isn't his brother, and is instead an enemy. Especially when he was given so many gifts and shown to the small library.

He could laugh at such a notion now.

As he's spent more time with him, as he's come to _know_ this Hashirama much better, he's come to realize that this man is nothing like Anija.

The same face. The same hair. The same ideals.

But Anija's never been devoid of all hope.

The man is broken. Utterly broken.

And Tobirama...Tobirama wants to fix him.

It's not all sentiment, of course.

If he can fix him, if he can bring him back to sanity and come to grips with his past, then Hashirama may regain himself and become the just man he used to be. Reconcile with the loved ones he has left—and he still has them, Izuna has said, still has a best friend who grieves for what's happened to the man he used to respect, a fiance who thinks on the man he was before that battle where Tobirama's counterpart fell. Regain, if not his hope and happiness, then at least peace with himself. Set Tobirama and Izuna free.

And it is sentiment too. Tobirama would've been his brother had a single incident been different. He would've been Tobirama's Anija had it been Izuna and not he who lost his life. In a way, Tobirama does owe him. (And if he could wish that his own Anija was a bit more like him, if he could have just a fraction of that consideration this Hashirama gives so freely from his Anija...)

But how do you begin to heal something like this? How do you begin to correct the damage Hashirama has inflicted on his own self?


	46. Non-Incest: Considerations

**Considerations**  
  
  
He's yearning, crying, despairing, lamenting for a brother he can't even remember, for the solid rock he had leaned on for so many years before he destroyed its very foundations himself, drove roots deep into the core and split it apart, crack by crack.

But...

He cracks the bowl in his hand. The sharp edges dig into his palm, slicing it open so quickly he doesn't even feel the pain.

Immediately, strong gentle hands land on his, long fingers deftly plucking at the sharp shards. The dab of a wet cloth soothes away the slow burn, and a clean bandage is wound about his palm, binding the raw edges shut. “Anija, you need to be more careful. This could get infected. Anija, you should try to keep from injuring yourself.”

Tobirama. Always concerned for him. Always putting Hashirama first. Always perfect in his obligations.

But...

His Tobira is here. His Tobira is speaking softly with him, a ploy at first, but more and more, he can sense it becoming real, bringing his brother back the way he had been before everything happened. And he should be happy about it, should be ecstatic that he's winning him back, that this entire thing (the injury, Madara and Mito's betrayal, the pretender) will all soon be just a bad dream.

His world made whole again. His quicksilver brother by his side, a chance to bring about peace the right away, and have Tobira share in it, a chance to start anew...

He shivers. His palm throbs.

It feels wrong. It feels wrong, and he can't bear to think of why.

It feels wrong, and he thinks he knows why.

-~&~-

He has more freedom now. The daily exercises. The allowance of time outside of his cell, the ability to (lightly) train and occupy his mind with something besides monotony.

It's more than he had. It's more than he would expect of his situation, as a prisoner of the infamous madman who took over a world in his insanity, who strangles the very air out of a person's breath and who turns the very flora into his spies and agents.

All because of the pretense that the counterpart of Izuna's rival had put on to save them both.

Izuna doesn't like it.

Tobirama is nothing like Izuna had thought, all those years he'd fought the version in this world. Grave and serious and deadly and with not a single bone of compassion in him. A brilliant man, but a tool at the heart of him. Someone Izuna could not afford to let his guard down against, but also someone Izuna had never thought he'd ever comprehend.

The frost in those red eyes like some alien coldness, stealing the natural fire that should reside in eyes of that color. A heart of stone, for all save his brother and cousin, a mind like a trap. A swirling typhoon of death.

And he is that, but he is so much more.

The man who touches Izuna's wounds so carefully and gently. The man who uses his hold on Hashirama to bargain first for more freedoms for Izuna. The man who let the past sleeping past lie as easily as...as Izuna has never been able to do.

And he doesn't like that that incredible man is inviting emotional disaster so easily.

Izuna is an Uchiha...and an Uchiha understands family bonds better than anyone else.

This ploy that Tobirama plays, this coy pretense, Izuna can see him bending, bonding, attaching.

It is dangerous.

Izuna doesn't want to see Tobirama dragged into the madness that is Hashirama.

-~&~-

He's always had him by his side. He's always known exactly where he was, been able to reach him relatively easily, could rest easy knowing him safe. And now...

Madara traces the tanto his brother left behind.

How is Izuna now? Is Hashirama mistreating him? Would Izuna suffer the consequences when they attack Madara's former friend?

He squeezes his hand on the sheath, the hard wood digging into his hand.

He's an older brother. He's a devoted older brother. And the thought of his little brother out there, in the hands of an enemy is unbearable.

Izuna...

He wants him back. He wants him safe. He wants to wrap Izuna up in his arms and _apologize_ because...

Because it's all his fault, isn't it?

If he'd accepted Hashirama's hand, if he hadn't delayed so long, vacillating back and forth like the feckless _weak_ idiot he was, then Izuna and Tobirama would never have been in that life or death situation. And Hashirama would never have gone crazy.

What price the inability to make up his mind? What price deserves a man who cannot make the correct choice, but instead lets the choice out of his hands entirely?

Surely it is too much.

A last little brother. The light in his life.

Izuna...

He gave up his only friend years ago, and then again months ago. Must he now give up his brother too?

-~&~-

She's always been sure of herself. Princess of the Uzumaki. Hime of Whirlpool.

Her plans are impeccable, her brilliance near unmatched. Perhaps she is slightly weak in tactical play on the spot, but there is no better a planner, no better a strategist amongst any of the clans she knows. She is strong, reserved, dignified. But perhaps even more than her mind, more than her abilities and grace is her reputation for loyalty.

An Uzumaki's friendship, once given, is never retracted. An Uzumaki's loyalty, once earned, is never rescinded.

She is the _epitome_ of that clan, their living banner.

And yet...

She thinks on him sometimes.

What he might have become if he had not...

The kind of maturity a young man already brimming with potential and grand ideals could have attained.

(She dared hope for the future. A peaceful one for her children, a different fate for the next generation of Senju than from ther predecessors.)

And so she set her jutsu, let her full-of-life, full-of-potential fiance see a possibility...and it killed her brilliant brother-in-law to be.

It is her fault. Her jutsu that steered events wrong, and her jutsu that brings innocents to attone for the crimes of those in this world.

She sets her slender hand on the other Hashirama's shoulder, letting him weep under her touch in silence.

For his sake, for the sake of a Hashirama that has not yet lost all his light, for the sake of another could-have-been brother-in-law that lives still, she hopes she does not make another mistake.

The world would not be able to take it.


	47. Non-Incest: A Small Ripple

**A Small Ripple**  
  
  
It happens while Izuna is speaking softly with Tobirama while Hashirama is keeping watch. Speaking softly and showing the Senju from another world something, something small and inconsequential. Just a small flick of his wrist as he gestures to the sky. Something Izuna's done countless times. Simply the way he moves, an aspect of how he performs his personality. Harmless, with no meaning in the world attached to it.

Harmless, save for the torrent it releases in Hashirama.

It's in that small flick, the bend of his elbow, the snap of his hand. Exactly like when he had...

Hashirama's eyes widen, unseeing.

No, not unseeing, but seeing something other than the Izuna and the Tobirama in front of him.

He sees the past. Sees the flick of that wrist, bringing down a kunai. The other wrist, holding the ninjato firm. Sees the ninjato make a lethal, lightning-fast sweep, tearing a red line through exposed and unprotected flesh. Exposed and unprotected flesh where familiar blue armor was already broken and the sharp blade bit deep into pale flesh and...

And Tobirama's falling.

Hashirama's precious brother, falling, falling, falling. Falling, and then not getting up after. Falling as blood pools beneath him, and Hashirama is breaking away, leaving Madara mid-strike to run to his brother's side, shrieking as he cradles that quickly paling form.

He doesn't even notice as Madara tugs Izuna away in a hurry, as the Uchiha quickly run off, pale-faced and disbelieving.

Tobirama's a titan, after all, and more than one had seen the advantage he'd had. An advantage he'd given up for _no_ reason. A life and death match that flipped on its head, an advantage sprung out of nowhere, no one more confused and shaken than Izuna himself and...

Red eyes, the light in them, the _life_ , quickly fading. Bloodied lips trying to speak, choking on blood even as guts spilled out, and all the while Hashirama screamed and screamed and screamed.

He's a renowned healer. One of the most powerful and famous medics in all of Hi no Kuni, but no amount of frantic seals, no amount of desperately applied iryo-ninjutsu seemed to bring color back to his brother's cheeks, seemed to halt the death rattle in that chest against his heart.

Tobirama dies, in painful agony, trying all the while to comfort Hashirama, to bring peace to his brother. Tobirama dies without being able to say a single thing, the hand he tries to lick to caress his brother's cheek falling uselessly by his side, the smile he tries to bring to his lips shattered by the agony racing through his broken body.

And Hashirama's still screaming all the while. He's screaming and screaming and _screaming_ himself hoarse, still channeling his chakra uselessly against that cooling body when his clansmen finally manage to pull him away, finally rip Tobirama away from him.

It's only when the body lands with a thud against blood-soaked soil, a clumsy sprawl that Tobirama would _never_ be seen in that Hashirama finally stops screaming, finally sways as he's forced to accept what has happened.

No.

No, that didn't happen.

Tobirama's still here.

Tobirama's still with him.

Izuna didn't kill him, he _didn't_.

His Tobirama is...is...

His _otouto_...

Hashirama's hands are clenched, his nails digging so hard into his palms that he bleeds, and he doesn't notice. He doesn't notice anything except...except...

“Tobirama,” he had requested, all those months ago. “Tobira-chan, please, if you have a chance, hold back. Don't kill Izuna. I don't think Madara will ever let it go if you do. Please allow him to live. For me, otouto. You are strong. Please don't kill him. For your Anija.”

Tobirama's stopped talking to Izuna. Tobirama's looking at him, his brows knit in concern, that familiar tilt to the man's mouth when he's puzzling something out on his lips. He walks towards him, reaching a hand out.

The hand pales, whitens to an ashy grey tint—the color of a cadaver—before Hashirama's eyes.

And he screams.


	48. Non-Incest: Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Might change my mind later and do a less tragic route, but for now...have this one.

**Repeat**  
  
  
He had been so happy when little Tobirama was born. A little brother! A cute, adorable, adoring little brother with wispy white hair, and the cutest little button nose he'd ever seen. So quiet, so sweet, and so tiny, snuggled into HaHa's breast, a miniature fist against her heart.

He had been beyond ecstatic when little Kawarama was born, and then tiny Itama.

His three brothers. His precious people. They gave him joy and life and love, tiny faces lifted up to him in adoration, a unique spark of life in each.

Kawarama went first, struck down by the Hagoromo on a mission he should never have been put on. Itama was next, his young life ripped away from him by their age old enemies the Uchiha. And Tobirama...

Tobirama survived.

Tobirama survived to grow up, to turn into a man. Always there. Face ever turned towards Hashirama, ever willing to follow his Anija's lead and orders. Oh, he'll complain about it and poke holes in Hashirama's plans, but he never truly said no.

He was brilliant, talented, strong, everything a shinobi no mono should be, and so Hashirama forgot that he was vulnerable too, that he wasn't as strong, couldn't afford to hold back.

He'd wanted to build a village for his brothers. A safe village where they could grow up.

-~&~-

He's worried. He's worried about how Hashirama might react. He can feel those long pauses as the man seems on the verge of realizing something. He can see him struggling to remember, struggling to keep that bright happy air about him.

It's fake.

It's all fake, including what he's doing himself, but it's a risk he'll take. He needs to hurry things along, needs to get more freedoms for Izuna, needs to send Mito and Anija more information.

Izuna said they would be coming soon, that they have supplied enough from this pretense he is playing, but he worries it won't be in time.

Because...

Because he sees Hashirama look at Izuna sometimes. He sees Hashirama look at Izuna and feels a spike of killing intent even through the seals shackling him. He sees Hashirama clench his hands as if he has them wrapped around something, sees the murderous glare in Hashirama's eyes (never at him, never directed at him, but always after one of those long pauses, always when he looks upon the younger Uchiha).

He wants to help Hashirama. He wants to help Izuna. But he fears that if he helps one, then the other will suffer. And it's coming to a head. He can feel it.

In the air. In the very atmosphere around him.

And he's afraid.

He's conversing with Izuna, quietly discussing their plans, the Uchiha a solid, comforting presence at his side when he sees Hashirama tremble out of the corner of his eye. He sees Hashirama stiffen and sway. He casts a wide-eyed glance at Izuna and then walks to Hashirama, his heart in his throat.

He reaches out a hand—

_Let it shake Hashirama from this. Let him come back to himself. Let this pretense carry on, for just a little while longer._

Because if Hashirama remembers, what will happen to Izuna?

And how can Tobirama prevent it?

-~&~-

It was going so well. Aniki and Mito were going to get here today. They'd gotten enough information out to them that they could risk it all on an attack.

It had to be soon. Today.

Hashirama may be more lenient than he had ever been, but he was also more unstable. Tobirama had told him about the man's mood swings, about the tremors that overtook him and the way he clutched his head, as if trying to remember (or fighting not to). It means higher chances for their successful escape, for removing themselves from the battlefield so they could not be used as hostages. It means Hashirama might hurt Tobirama for his pretense.

Izuna's worried. Izuna's scared. Tobirama had risked so much, put himself in such danger, mostly for Izuna's benefit. Even now, the Senju's thoughts are for him and their overall situation, and Izuna...

Izuna thinks he's never been more sorry to have killed this world's Tobirama. He thinks it might have been better if he could have changed his mind, agreed to his brother's desire for peace with the Senju. He woudn't ever put down his sword and sacrifice himself, but his ideals and worries?

For the Tobirama that he knows is no more in this world, for a friendship (and maybe more) that he could have had?

Yes. Absolutely yes.

He's talking with Tobirama, working out their last details so that they can stay out of Aniki and Mito's way when he sees Tobirama's attention diverted towards Hashirama. He looks up, and he's alarmed to see the man wide-eyed, swaying, sweating, _trembling_.

This is what Tobirama had been talking about. This is what Tobirama is afraid of.

But before he can say or do anything, Tobirama is already walking towards the insane Senju, his arm outstretched, reaching out for that scum as if he were actually worthy of the concern of someone like Tobirama.

And...

“Look out!”

He grabs Tobirama, dragging the other man away from the sudden eruption of vines as Hashirama suddenly begins to scream.

Chakra-bound as he is, ankles still tethered to his cell by a long chain despite his recent increased freedom, he can do little but try to avoid the lethal flora, twisting this way and that as everything seems to go crazy. He looks to Tobirama, trying to coordinate with the other man so that they could get free of the mass of writhing green when he sees the other man's eyes widen.

“Izuna! No!”

He twists around, just in time to see the sharpened spears of vines coming right at him and—

Impact.

-~&~-

He sees the deadly vines heading for Izuna. Sees his little brother targeted, and he wonders if this is the moment he is to lose the only thing remaining with meaning in his life. His clan, his ideals, his former best friend are all alien to him now. A mockery of what they once used to be. The only thing he truly has left is his little brother, and if that's taken away from him too, if he loses Izuna...

What is the point of it all, if he loses Izuna? Everything he's ever worked for...what is the point?

-~&~-

She knows a moment before it happens what would occur, and she's too late to stop it. She pushes herself as she's never pushed herself before, strained to get there in time, to stop the vines—like spears thrust all in a row, and with as deadly intent.

They're aiming at Izuna, but she can read the battlefield better than anyone else, and she knows what will happen before it does. A flick of her hand, the most desperate summoning of chakra and seals that she's ever used and...

She can't. She's too late, too late, too late. Her seals erupt just a moment behind, unable to stop the spray of blood, to stop the horrific scene from happening.

She's too late, by just a smidgen, just a single moment.

It's the most important moment in the world.

-~&~-

When Izuna had fallen, he thought he knew how Madara had felt, grieved with the other man as if it were his own precious brother who had fallen. He had been angry then, at Tobirama, for causing his best friend such pain, had wanted to rectify the mistake, and had spent countless hours in the aftermath trying to figure out how to overturn it, to make it right again.

He knows now, that whatever it was he felt then, whatever semblance, whatever _mockery_ of sympathy he felt then, it is nothing compared to the real thing.

The vines—his own weapons—head straight for this world's Izuna. The younger Uchiha twists around. Madara screams from beside him, and Izuna...

Izuna falls, shunted aside by a familiar blue blur.

Hashirama's eyes widen.

No.

His brother. His Tobirama. Who he hadn't seen since his insane counterpart had taken him. Who he hadn't really _spoken_ to since before that last battle in his own world where Izuna fell...

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to get Tobirama back and apologize for just how _shitty_ he's been and vow to be better. He wanted to take Tobirama in his arms and hug him and never ever let him go, because he knows his value now. He knows what it's like to not have him, to be terrified he'd lost him.

Months dreaming of rescuing Tobirama. Months imagining their reunion, letting Tobirama know just how important he is. Months just waiting to go back to their world together, to fix the mess with their clan and the Uchiha and walk toward peace, hand in hand with Tobirama.

His last little brother. His only surviving little brother. The entire reason for the village in the first place.

They would have a fresh start. That safe village he dreamed of, where his brothers could grow up. That life he wants where he doesn't have to bury any more family, any more little brothers.

(He had seen his counterpart's mistake. Understood where he needed to be better. _Was ready to make the commitment to change himself._ )

“No,” he says, shaking, trembling, crumbling.

“No.” He shakes his head, sinks to his knees and gasps like a man dying.

“No.”


	49. Non-Incest: Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last non-incest chapter.

**Enough**  
  
  
What was the point of it all?

To bring him here to this world. To have his brother ripped from him. To...

He takes his brother's broken body into his arms. Tobirama's severe face is slackened in death. His otouto's white hair is stained red and brown with dirt and blood. Those eyes, once like precious jewels, are unseeing, glazed over with an uncaring that he had never, _never_ displayed in life.

He doesn't get to hear his voice again. Not even a last goodbye. He doesn't think he _remembers_ what Tobirama sounded like.

His little brother. His last little brother. His too loyal, too selfless Tobirama.

He wants to scream. He wants to kill. He wants, wants...

It's an easy enough thing (too easy, with the man frozen in shock) to tie the impostor— _murderer, monster_ —down. To bind him and strike him, fist after fist after fist after fist after...

It's not enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

He breaks every single bone in that wretch's body. He squeezes his vines around him until his tissues begin to liquefy from the pressure. He rips out those hateful brown eyes—he doesn't get to look like that, he doesn't get to look _gutted_ as if it were _him_ that lost the most important thing in the world. He starts to flay off skin into ten thousand tiny little pieces to match the shattered remains of Hashirama's heart.

It's not enough. Why isn't it enough? Why?!

He screams.

He screams, and the pressure inside him is _worse_ and he'll do anything to ease it, anything at all, but nothing can because, because, because...

Tobirama.

Otouto.

_Why?!_

He claws at his own face, and Madara leaps forward, trying to hold him back, trying to wrench his hands away. He draws blood, and Mito's furiously working on a seal, some seal to no doubt calm him, but Hashirama doesn't want it, doesn't want to let this go.

His little brother is dead.

His Tobirama is gone.

He never even had a chance to get him back, to make amends.

_What was the point?!_

Were the kami so cruel as to deny him at the very last second? To have him so close to being whole again and then to rip it all away...

He whirls back to face the man who did this.

“Why?!” He roars. “You lost your own, so you take mine?! Why Tobirama? Why him?! Why?!”

But the man doesn't answer. He's just kneels there, bound, bloodied, dying and...

Pathetic.

It should quell him. It should bank his anger. It fuels it instead.

His little brothers are all gone.

Kawarama. Itama. And now Tobirama, his precious, loyal little brother.

He remembers the wispy white hair when he first saw him. Remembers that tiny little fist against HaHa's breast, remembers the scrunched up tiny face as he turned towards warmth and food. He remembers the slender back as Tobirama stopped their father from striking him, as he comforted him after Kawarama's funeral. He remembers the solid blue armor at his side, the steel happuri framing a battle-hardened but loving face, ever turned toward him, ever looking to him for direction.

(He had survived. He was supposed to survive.)

He screams, and bloody vines erupt from the ground, spearing the twitching pulp in front of him like his Tobirama had been speared. He shrieks, and the earth shakes, throwing Mito and Madara to the ground. Only Izuna manages to keep to his feet.

“Stop it,” he says, turning to Hashirama, and Hashirama shakes his head.

He can't. He won't.

There must be payment for Tobirama.

“I won't.”

Izuna growls. “I hate him as much as you do, and I came to care for Tobirama too, but...it is done! You'll destroy us all if you continue this!”

Done? _Done?!_

“It's not done,” he shrieks. “It's not done until it's all destroyed! All of it! Everything—everyone—that had a hand in taking him from me...!”

“Tobirama wouldn't want that! Your brother wouldn't want you to go down that path! He tried everything he could think of to turn _him_ away, and now you're going to spit on his sacrifice like that?!”

“He's dead! He's dead, and this world killed him! He's dead, and it's everyone's fault!”

“Then you're no better than our Hashirama are you? Nothing more than another madman, bent on destroying the world, walking down that exact same path. It brought us to this place. It brought us to this outcome.”

Izuna lifts his chin, spits at his feet. “Fine then. Go ahead. Do it. Become the monster that killed him. But know this. He would never forgive you, and you will never see him again even in the Pure Lands.”

It's perhaps the one thing that can give him pause. Except...Hashirama doesn't know if it's enough.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [From Me to You, Unwillingly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19377025) by [gg113](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gg113/pseuds/gg113)
  * [A Brother's Rehabilitation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23244895) by [Tenshi_Oujo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenshi_Oujo/pseuds/Tenshi_Oujo)




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